HENRY    HART    MILMAN,    D.D. 


HENRY  HART  MILMAN.D.D, 

DEAN    OF   ST.    PAUL'S 
A    BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH 


BY    HIS    SON 

ARTHUR    MILMAN,    M.A,    LL.D. 


WITH   PORTRAITS 


LONDON 

JOHN    MURRAY,    ALBEMARLK    STREET 

1900 


(TO     THE     MEMORY 
OF 

MY    FATHER    AND    MOTHER 

THIS   IMPERFECT  RECORD 

IS 
DEDICATED 


247826 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION  i 


CHAPTER  I. 

Parentage— The  Milmans  and  Harts— School  and   College- 
Eton  and  Oxford 


CHAPTER  II. 

Fazio — Its  Success  upon  the  Stage — Miss  Fanny  Kemble  and 
Madame  Ristori — "  Samor  " — Correspondence  with  Sir 
John  Coleridge — Letter  from  Paris,  1815  .  .  .  -33 


CHAPTER  III. 

Enters  into  Holy  Orders — First  Curacy — Nominated  to  the 
Vicarage  of  St.  Mary's,  Reading — Poetical  Works— Fall 
of  Jerusalem — Martyr  of  Antioch — Belshazzar — Pro- 
fessorship of  Poetry  at  Oxford — Tour  in  Italy — Marriage  .  5 1 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Quarterly  Review — Appreciation  of  Gilford — Letter  to 
Coleridge  on  Editorship — A  Frequent  Contributor — "History 
of  the  Jews  "—Outcry  against— Thirty  Years  after— Edition 
of  Gibbon 75 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  V. 

PAGE 

Letters  from  Oxford— Dropmore— Bampton  Lecturer— Com- 
memoration, 1827— Catholic  Relief  Bill— The  Oxford  Election 
— Peel  rejected — Dinner  at  Mr.  John  Murray's — Letters 
from  Mrs.  Hemans  and  Mrs.  Opie — Rector  of  St.  Margaret's 
and  Prebendary  of  Westminster 103 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Leaves  Reading — Ashburnham  House — Parish  of  St.  Margaret's 
—"History  of  Christianity" — Edition  of  Horace— West- 
minster School 133 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Correspondence  with  Mrs.  Austin — Letter  from  Mr.  Everett — 
Overworked— Domestic  Sorrow — Nominated  to  the  Deanery 
of  St.  Paul's— Congratulations 148 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Letters  to  Mr.  George  Ticknor  and  Mr.  Prescott — Death  of  Mr. 
Prescott — Lord  Macaulay's  Funeral — Further  Correspond- 
ence with  Mrs.  Austin — Letter  to  Archbishop  Sumner 
on  Froude's  Candidature  for  Chicheley  Professorship 
of  Modern  History — Lord  Derby's  Homer— The  Keble 
Memorial — Letters  to  Archbishop  Longley  .  .  .  .173 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"History  of  Latin  Christianity" — Appreciation  of  by  Dean 
Stanley — Mr.  Froude — Dean  Church — American  Writers — 
St.  Paul's— Funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington— Special 
Evening  Services — Letter  to  the  Archbishop  on  Revision  of 
Lectionary — Views  on  the  Decoration  of  the  Cathedral  .  223 


CONTENTS  ix 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAGE 

Publishers  and  Retail  Booksellers — Clerical  Subscription  Com- 
mission— Sir  Joseph  Napier — Dean  Milman's  Speech  and 
Proposal — Opinions  of  Dr.  Goodwin  and  Lord  Westbury 
thereupon — Tours  Abroad — Rome  and  the  Catacombs — 
The  Passion  Play  at  Ober-Ammergau 243 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Bishop  Colenso  Defence  Fund — Religion  and  Science — 
Notes  on  Antagonism  between — Letters  to  Stanley — To  Sir 
Charles  Lyell — Motion  in  Convocation  for  Abolition  of 
"  State  Services  " — Honorary  Professor  of  Ancient  Litera- 
ture at  Royal  Academy,  etc.  . 267 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"Annals  of  St.  Paul's  "—Characterized  by  Rev.  William  Scott 
— Extracts  from— Biographical  Interest  of— Illness  and 
Death— Funeral  at  St.  Paul's— Tributes  of  Respect  and 
Affection — Monument  in  St.  Paul's — Inscription  .  .  .  292 


APPENDIX  I. 

Diary  of  a  Journey  from  Talavera  to  Madrid  and  Bayonne  by 
Captain  F.  M.  Milman,  of  the  Coldstream  Guards,  October 
1 6th  to  November  6th,  1809.  As  stated  in  the  text,  Captain 
Milman  was  severely  wounded  at  Talavera,  and  was  there 
taken  prisoner  in  the  hospital 3*3 


APPENDIX  II. 

Letters  from  Captain  Husson  to  Dr.  Jenner,  and  from  Dr.  Jenner 
to  Sir  Francis  Milman,  relating  to  Captain  Milman's 
release  by  exchange  of  prisoners 327 


LIST    OF'  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

H.  H.  MILMAN Frontispiece 

From  a  Water-colour  Drawing  by  F.  CRUICKSHANK,  1839. 

MRS.  MILMAN To  face  p.  70 

From  a  Sketch  by  LADY  EASTLAKE. 

H.  H.  MILMAN  AS  DEAN  OF  ST.  PAUL'S         .        .        .     To  face  p.  222 

From  a  Picture  by  G.  F.  WATTS,  R.A. 


INTRODUCTION. 

THERE  is  probably  no  question  so  difficult  and 
delicate  to  decide  as  the  time  that  is  most 
appropriate  for  the  publication  of  any  biography 
or  memorial  of  one  who  has  occupied  a  position 
of  eminence  and  authority,  whether  in  the  world 
of  action  or  of  letters.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  it  be 
held  back  until  the  generation  that  would  have 
been  most  attracted  by  the  personal  history  of  its 
subject  has  disappeared,  there  is  more  than  a  risk 
that  much  of  the  interest  which  might  otherwise 
have  attached  to  it  may  be  lost.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  as  is  the  prevailing  custom,  a  "Life"  is  to 
follow  swift  upon  death,  some  instinctive  faculty, 
by  no  means  universal  with  biographers,  would 
seem  to  be  required,  enabling  them  to  distinguish 
what  is  really  worthy  of  preservation  from  mere 
ephemeral  details,  to  discriminate  between  mere 
transitory  popularity  and  that  which  is  likely  to 
be  considered  of  value  by  the  more  sober  verdict 
of  posterity. 

To  those  who  may  think  that  these  reminiscences 
of  my  father's  life  should  have  been  published  long 
ago,  if  published  at  all,  I  have  no  answer  to  make. 

1  i 


INTRODUCTION 


I  can  only  confess  and  avoid.  All  my  father's 
friends,  all  those  who  would,  I  believe,  have  valued 
any  memories,  however  slight,  of  his  early  days, 
have  indeed  passed  away,  and  they  can  now  but 
appeal  to,  with  very  rare  exceptions,  a  world  of 
strangers.  Even  so,  however,  I  have  been  advised 
that  it  would  be  a  pity  to  lose  them,  were  it  only 
for  the  sake  of  the  allusions  to  Eton  and  Oxford 
in  the  early  years  of  the  now  expiring  century, 
and  of  the  illustration  which  they  offer  of  the 
marked  change  which  within  my  father's  lifetime 
came  over  opinion,  especially  upon  views  of  the 
proper  methods  of  dealing  with  religious  history. 

Rough  and  insufficient  as  I  know  the  sketch  to 
be,  little  more  than  an  outline,  I  trust,  or  rather 
hope,  that,  with  those  who  can  read  between  the 
lines,  it  may  revive  the  memory  of  a  character  of 
singular  simplicity  and  sincerity,  of  one  who,  with 
many  friends,  had  few  enemies — even  those  who 
differed  most  from  him  in  opinion  admired  his 
straightforward  honesty,  admitted  his  personal  at- 
traction— of  a  man  whose  one  aim  and  object  was 
to  follow  after  truth  through  good  report  and  evil, 
if  haply  he  might  find  it.  I  may  not  say  more  : 
I  cannot  say  less. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Parentage — The  Milmans  and  Harts — School  and  College — Eton 
and  Oxford. 

IT  is  not  necessary,  as  an  introduction  to  the 
following  slight  sketch  of  the  life  of  Dean 
Milman,  to  trace  back  his  ancestry  for  several 
generations.  Pedigrees  long  drawn  out  are  apt  to 
be  tiresome,  and  it  will  probably  be  amply  sufficient 
to  indicate  as  concisely  as  possible  the  kind  of 
people  from  whom  he  was  descended,  with  such 
few  illustrations  as  may  seem  to  have  something 
more  than  a  mere  family  interest.  His  father, 
Francis  Milman,  physician  to  George  III.,  was  a 
man  of  refinement  and  cultivation,  eminent  in  his 
profession,  and  much  in  the  confidence  of  the  Royal 
Family,  especially  of  Queen  Charlotte,  who  is  said 
to  have  been  indebted  to  him,  not  only  professionally, 
but  as  her  adviser  in  many  private  and  delicate 
communications  with  the  King.  For  these  services 
a  baronetcy  was  conferred  upon  him,  the  patent  of 
creation  being,  it  is  stated,  the  last  that  was  issued 
in  the  last  year  of  the  last  century.  Sir  Francis 
was  President  of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians 
1811-13.  He  came  of  an  old  Devonshire  stock, 

3 


4  ANCESTORS  [CHAP. 

his  immediate  ancestors  being  scholars  and  country 
clergymen,  content  to  live  their  quiet  life,  to 
discharge  the  uneventful  duties  of  their  station,  in 
that  picturesque  fringe  of  broken  ground  which 
lies  between  Dartmoor  and  the  Channel,  and  has 
given  birth  to  so  many  naval  worthies,  forgotten 
some  for  want  of  a  sacred  poet,  while  of  others  the 
names  will  never  perish. 

Sir  Francis'  father  and  grandfather  were  both 
also  named  Francis.  The  father  was  rector  of 
East  Ogwell  and  vicar  of  Abbots  Kerswell.  He 
married  Sarah,  eldest  daughter  of  Richard  Dyer. 
The  Dyers  had  been  squires  of  Levaton  in  Wood- 
land, near  Ashburton,  for  three  centuries ;  but  they 
were  then  to  end,  for  Sarah's  only  brother  John 
died,  and  it  was  her  son  who  inherited  the  modest 
estate.  The  grandfather,  the  first  Francis,  was 
rector  of  Marldon  and  vicar  of  Paignton,  and  mar- 
ried Joan  Prideaux.  His  father,  Thomas  Milman, 
of  South  Brent,  had  married  another  Prideaux — 
Agnes.  The  Prideaux  are  one  of  the  oldest 
families  in  Devonshire.  The  church  of  Modbury 
contains  the  tomb  of  Sir  John  Prideaux,  who  died 
in  1406.  The  race  is  still  extant,  and  is  at 
present  represented  by  Charles  Prideaux- Brune, 
of  Prideaux  House,  near  Padstow,  in  the  adjoining 
county  of  Cornwall.  There  was,  it  may  be  men- 
tioned, a  Devonshire  scholarship  at  Exeter  College, 
Oxford,  which  has  been  held  by  seven  Milmans, — 
the  first  being  Sir  Francis'  grandfather ;  the  last 
being  Robert  Milman,  his  grandson,  and  Dean 


i.]  THE   HARTS  5 

Milman's   nephew,  who  afterwards  became  Bishop 
of  Calcutta. 

The  Dean's  mother  was  Frances,  daughter  and 
eventually  heiress  of  William  Hart,  merchant  and 
linen  manufacturer  of  Bristol,  whose  country  seat 
was  at  Stapleton,  in  Gloucestershire.  By  a  strange 
coincidence,  she,  who  was  descended  from  Sir 
Richard  Braye,  the  physician  and  faithful  adherent 
who  ministered  to  and  consoled  the  imbecile  King 
Henry  VI.,  married  the  physician  who  was  to 
attend  that  other  king  of  England  who  lost  his 
reason,  George  III.,  and  to  win  the  confidence  of 
the  royal  patient  and  of  his  devoted  Queen.  It 
will  not  be  without  interest  briefly  to  indicate 
how  this  came  about. 

The  Harts  first  rose  to  consideration  as  London 
merchants,  and  John  Hart,  who  died  comparatively 
young  in  1507,  married  Elizabeth,  the  heiress  of 
the  De  Peches(De  Peccato,  corrupted  into  Peachey), 
a  Norman  family  who  came  over  at  the  Conquest, 
and  who  purchased  Lullingston,  in  Kent,  in  1360. 
The  ruins  of  the  De  PecheV  feudal  stronghold  are 
now  known  as  Shoreham  Castle,  and  the  present 
owner  of  the  modern  mansion  in  Lullingston  Park, 
Sir  William  Hart  Dyke,  Bart.,  is  the  eldest  repre- 
sentative of  the  ancient  stock.  Sir  Percival,  the 
son  of  John  Hart  and  Elizabeth  Peachey,  was  as 
successful  at  Court  as  in  commerce,  for  he  obtained 
and  retained  the  office  of  Chief  Sewer  and  Knight 
Harbinger  under  four  sovereigns — Jienry  VIII., 
Edward  VI.,  Mary,  and  Elizabeth.  This  solid 


6  SIR  PERCIVAL   HART  [CHAP. 

citizen  and  accomplished  courtier  had  his  town 
house  and  garden  at  the  south-east  corner  of 
Tower  Street,  looking  over  the  fatal  hill,  the 
fortress,  and  the  shipping  beyond.  The  space 
between  Tower  Street  and  Thames  Street  was 
not  then  built  over.  In  the  city  he  served  in  the 
office  of  sheriff,  attended  to  the  manifold  calls  of 
business,  and  then,  passing  to  the  Court,  discharged, 
through  four  reigns,  full  of  changes  in  Church  and 
State,  his  various  duties  of  precaution  and  parade 
without  exciting  any  fatal  enmity  when  enmities 
were  so  rife.  His  wife  was  daughter  of  the  first 
Lord  Braye,  grandson  of  Sir  Richard  Braye.  Lord 
Braye  was  also  nephew  and  heir  of  Sir  Reginald 
Braye,  eldest  son  of  the  physician  of  Henry  VI. 

A  grandson  of  the  Knight  Harbinger  and 
Frideswide  Braye,  George  Hart,  settled  at  Bristol, 
where  a  branch  of  the  family  was  already  estab- 
lished (John  Hart  was  mayor  of  Bristol  in  1599), 
and  engaged  in  the  linen  industry  when  Somerset- 
shire was  becoming  the  manufacturing  district  of 
England.  He  married  a  daughter  of  the  mayor, 
whose  son,  Sir  George  Knight,  was  notorious  in 
Bristol  history  as  the  persecutor  of  the  Quakers. 
George  Hart's  enterprise  and  that  of  his  children 
were  crowned  with  success,  and  the  thriving  weavers 
established  their  country  home  first  at  Bitton  and 
afterwards  at  Stapleton.  For  three  generations  they 
served  in  the  highest  municipal  offices.  George's 
son,  Sir  Richard,  represented  Bristol  in  four  parlia- 
ments; but  his  son  William,  when  he  offered  himself 


i.]  BROTHERS  AND   SISTER  7 

to  the  electors  in  1721,  was  rejected  on  account  of 
his  Jacobite  sympathies.  Of  the  children  of  his 
son,  a  second  William,  all  except  Frances  died 
without  leaving  issue.  But  their  near  relations 
managed  the  mills  at  Chard  until  the  end  of  the 
last  century,  when  steam  superseded  water-power. 
Then  manufactures  migrated  to  Lancashire,  and 
ruined  mills  on  the  banks  of  the  Somersetshire 
streams  are  the  last  monuments  of  a  vanished 
industry. % 

Of  the  marriage  of  Francis  Milman  and  Frances 
Hart,  which  took  place  on  July  2Oth,  1779,  there 
was  issue  seven  children  ;  but  of  these  three  died 
in  infancy,  and  were  buried  in  the  Milman  chapel 
or  chantry  in  old  Chelsea  Church.|  The  four  who 
survived  were  William  George,  afterwards  the 
second  baronet,  born  1781;  Francis  Miles,  born 
1783  ;  Frances  Emily,  born  1787;  and  Henry  Hart, 
born  1791.  My  father's  eldest  brother,  William, 
and  his  sister  Emily  were  both  accomplished  artists, 

*  These  and  other  memoranda  relating  to  the  family  history 
have  been  collected  and  arranged  by  my  brother,  Archibald 
Milman,  C.B. 

t  This  chapel,  on  the  south  side  of  the  church,  was  built  by  Sir 
Thomas  More,  and  is  properly  called  his  chapel.  It  continued  in 
possession  of  the  proprietary  of  his  house  till  Sir  A.  Gorges  sold 
that  to  the  Earl  of  Middlesex,  reserving  the  chapel,  as  he  continued 
to  reside  in  another  fine  house  that  he  had  built  for  himself  in  the 
parish.  Sir  A.  Gorges'  house,  and  with  it  the  property  in  the 
chapel,  subsequently  passed  through  various  hands,  and  was 
occupied  and  owned  at  one  time  by  Sir  William  Milman,  Knight, 
who  built  the  houses  in  Milman  Street,  Chelsea,  and  died,  s.p.t 
1713.  My  grandfather,  Sir  Francis,  bought  the  chapel  for  the 
sake  of  the  family  association,  and  in  it  several  members  of  the 
family  are  buried.  See  Faulkner's  "  Description  of  Chelsea,"  pp.  93 
and  100. 


8  FRANCIS   MILES  MILMAN  [CHAP. 

devoting  themselves  especially  to  architectural  sub- 
jects in  water-colours.  Sir  Frederick  Burton,  than 
whom  there  can  be  no  better  authority,  coming  on 
one  occasion  into  a  room  hung  with  their  pictures, 
enquired  who  had  painted  those  interiors  of  churches, 
adding  that  he  thought  he  could  identify  the  work 
of  every  known  water-colour  painter  in  England, 
but  that  he  did  not  recognise  this  hand.  On  being 
told  that  they  were  the  work  of  amateurs,  he  said, 
"Oh  no!  there  is  too  much  knowledge  and  surety 
of  hand  for  those  to  be  the  work  of  dilettanti  ; 
they  are  professional."  On  being  assured  that  they 
were  executed  by  members  of  the  family,  he  said 
that  they  must  have  had  a  great  appreciation  of 
architecture,  and  have  given  much  time  to  their 
art.  For  his  sister  Emily  my  father  had  a  deep 
attachment.  She  was  the  friend  and  confidante  of 
all  his  earlier  years,  the  one  at  home  to  whom, 
as  will  be  seen,  his  letters  from  school  and  college 
were  chiefly  addressed,  with  whom  his  plans  for 
the  future  were  discussed,  opinions  on  books  and 
events,  on  the  passing  topics  of  the  hour,  were 
freely  interchanged.  She  died  on  July  26th,  1835. 

My  father's  second  brother,  Francis  Miles,  chose 
the  life  of  a  soldier,  obtaining  his  first  commission 
as  an  ensign  in  the  Coldstream  Guards  in  1800, 
when  he  was  but  seventeen  years  of  age  ;  in  1804 
he  became  lieutenant  and  captain.  In  the  Peninsular 
War  he  served  in  1808  as  aide-de-camp  to  Major- 
General  Catlin  Craufurd,  was  present  at  the  battles 
of  Roriga  and  Vimiero,  the  retreat  to  Corunna,  the 


i.]  WOUNDED   AT  TALAVERA  9 

action  on  the  heights  of  Lugo,  and  the  battle  of 
Corunna.  He  was  with  his  regiment,  the  Cold- 
stream  Guards,  at  the  passage  of  the  Douro,  the 
capture  of  Oporto,  and  at  the  battle  of  Talavera, 
where  he  was  very  severely  wounded,  and  was  only 
saved  from  being  burnt  on  the  field  by  the  gallantry 
of  a  private  in  the  Guards.  He  was  taken  prisoner 
in  the  hospital  of  Talavera,  where,  with  others  of 
his  wounded  comrades,  he  was  detained  for  nearly 
three  months.  Thence,  passing  through  Madrid, 
he  was  carried  into  France.  The  experiences  of 
a  young  English  officer,  while  a  prisoner  in  Spain 
under  these  circumstances,  as  simply  narrated  in 
a  letter  home,  and  in  a  short  diary,*  when  every 
impression  was  vividly  recent,  seem  worth  pre- 
serving, with  some  necessary  compression.  To 
his  eldest  brother  he  writes  from  Bordeaux  on 
November  i4th  as  follows  : — 

MY  DEAR  WILLIAM, — 

I  take  the  opportunity  of  a  gentleman's 
promise  at  this  place  to  remit  a  letter  to  England. 
After  travelling  above  five  hundred  miles  in  Spain, 
we  arrived  at  Bayonne  on  November  7th.  The 
expense  we  have  been  put  to  on  the  road  has 
been  shameful  :  excepting  that  from  Valladolid  to 
Burgos,  we  had  a  coach  provided  for  us,  through 
the  kindness  of  General  Kellermann.  The  French 
Government  allow  me  three  francs  (2^.  6d.)  a  day, 
but  they  did  not  allow  any  arrears  for  the  three 
months  we  were  prisoners  in  Spain.  Had  we  not 
luckily  had  a  little  money  by  us,  we  should  have 
been  obliged  to  have  lived  upon  a  pound  of  black 

*  The  diary  is  printed  as  an  appendix  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 


10  A  PRISONER  IN   SPAIN  [CHAP, 

bread  and  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  meat,  which 
was  not  always  good,  throughout  the  whole  journey. 
At  Madrid  we  were  confined  three  days  close 
prisoners  at  the  Retire,  without  being  allowed  to 
go  beyond  the  sentries  who  were  posted  in  our 
rooms  :  during  that  time  we  received  nothing  but 
our  rations  of  mouldy  bread,  and  a  stinking  goat 
for  meat,  which  the  man  who  brought  it  was  so 
ashamed  of  that  he  told  us  himself  he  had  brought 
us  some  carrion.  We  were  generally  marched 
from  seven  to  eight  leagues  every  day,  halting  at 
the  great  places  for  one  day.  This  town  is  one 
of  the  finest  in  France,  and  we  propose  staying  a 
day  or  two  longer,  as  the  inhabitants  are  civil  to 
us  and  ask  us  to  dinner.  Our  route  will  lie  through 
Angouleme,  Poitiers,  Orleans,  Sens,  Troyes,  and 
Ch&lons,  to  Verdun — the  distance,  between  five 
and  six  hundred  English  miles.  We  came  from 
Bayonne  post  in  a  cabriolet,  which  was  cheaper  to 
me  than  the  diligence,  as  I  have  a  servant,  whose 
place  would  have  cost  as  much  as  my  own.  I  shall 
expect  you  to  take  the  first  opportunity  to  write  to 
me,  but  you  must  take  particular  care  not  to  hint 
at  anything  political,  as  the  letter  will  not  come  to 
hand  if  you  do.  I  should  tell  you  that  I  am  travelling 
with  Major  Fothringham  of  the  3rd  Guards,  who 
was  wounded  in  the  head — we  came  all  the  way 
together  from  Talavera — besides  three  others, 
Major  Popham,  Ensign  Scott,  3rd  Guards,  and 
Surgeon  Egan.  We  all  arrived  at  Bayonne  without 
a  farthing.  A  merchant  then  gave  us  money  for 
our  bills.  The  exchange  between  the  countries 
is  immense :  for  ^50  they  gave  us  about  ^38, 
which  makes  a  deduction  of  one-quarter.  At 
Talavera  we  have  given  five  shillings  for  a  loaf  of 
bread,  and  sometimes  we  had  no  meat  for  three 
days,  at  a  time  that  we  were  confined  to  our  beds 
and  required  delicate  nourishment.  Half  a  pound 


i.]  ON   PAROLE  IN  FRANCE  II 

of  tea  *  was  sent  us  by  Colonel  Bathurst,  to  whom 
I  shall  ever  be  thankful :  it  was  of  more  conse- 
quence than  ;£  1,000  at  the  time.  At  Bayonne  we 
had  a  magnificent  dinner  given  us  by  the  French 
officers  who  came  with  our  escort.  We  drank  the 
health  of  the  Emperor  and  King  George,  and  to  a 
peace  between  the  two  countries.  General  Keller- 
mann  put  us  upon  our  parole  and  asked  us  to  dinner 
at  Valladolid.  You  have  no  idea  what  a  good  man 
he  is,  and  how  extremely  attentive  he  is  to  all  the 
English  who  pass  through.  I  remember  him  in 
Portugal.  Another  general  who  was  in  Portugal — 
Thiebault — commanded  at  Burgos. 

For  some  time  after  his  arrival  in  France  my  uncle 
entertained  hopes  of  a  speedy  return  by  means  of  an 
exchange  to  England  ;  but  these  soon  vanished,  and 
many  weary  months  of  internment  as  a  prisoner  on 
parole,  at  Paris,  at  Valenciennes,  and  at  Verdun,  were 
before  him.  More  than  one  attempt  was  made  to 
obtain  his  release,  but  Napoleon  refused  to  exchange 
prisoners  ;  and  hopes  of  success  had  been  almost 
abandoned,  when  it  occurred  to  Sir  Francis  Milman 
to  make  one  last  attempt  through  his  friend  Dr. 
Jenner,  of  whom  it  was  reported  that  Napoleon  had 
spoken  as  un  ami  du  genre  humain,  and  who  had 
intimate  relations  with  some  of  the  leading  members 
of  his  profession  in  Paris.  There  is  good  ground 
for  believing  that  this  intervention  would  have  been 

*  Colonel  Bathurst  writes  to  Captain  Boothby:  "  I  have  got  a 
small  quantity  of  tea,  which  I  send  to  such  as  I  know  at  Talavera. 
I  am  sorry  it  is  not  more  :  I  have  only  two  pounds.  I  wish  you  would 
divide  one  with  Stanhope  of  the  2gth,  and  the  other  between  Major 
Popham,  24th,  and  Milman  of  the  Guards."  See  "A  Prisoner  of 
France,"  Boothby,  p.  100. 


12  HENRY  HART   MILMAN  [CHAP. 

effected,  and  that  an  arrangement  for  the  exchange 
of  Captain  Milman  with  a  Captain  Husson  would 
have  been  sanctioned  by  the  French  Government  ; 
but  it,  in  fact,  became  unnecessary,  as  the  first  restora- 
tion of  Louis  XVIII.  had  in  the  meantime  occurred, 
when  my  uncle  returned  with  the  other  prisoners 
and  detenus  to  England.*  After  his  return  to 
England  at  the  peace,  Captain  and  Lieut. -Colonel 
Milman's  promotion  followed  the  usual  course.  In 
1837  he  became  Lieut. -Colonel  of  the  Coldstream 
Guards,  and  went  on  half-pay  in  the  same  year. 
He  was  Major-General  1841,  was  appointed  Colonel 
of  the  82nd  Regiment  1850,  Lieut.-General  1851, 
and  he  died  1856. 

Henry  Hart  Milman,  the  youngest  son,  was 
born  at  47,  Lower  Brook  Street,  in  the  parish  of 
St.  James's,  Westminster,  on  February  loth,  1791. 
His  first  school  education — there  is  no  record  of 
earlier  incidents — was  obtained  at  an  establishment 
of  high  reputation  in  those  days,  kept  by  Dr. 
Charles  Burney,  at  Greenwich.  Burney  was  a 
considerable  scholar,  not  unworthy  to  be  compared 
with  Porson  and  Elmsley. 

The  death  of  poor  Burney  [writes  Elmsley  to 
Dr.  S.  Butler,  January  ist,  1818]  must  have 
surprised  you.  I  rate  him  higher  as  a  scholar 
than  some  of  my  friends  do.  He  was  the 
Copernicus  of  our  art ;  very  inferior  indeed  to 

*  See  Appendix  II.  The  part  taken  by  Dr.  Jenner  in  negotiating 
the  exchange  out  of  friendship  to  Sir  Francis  Milman  may  give  an 
interest  to  some  letters  which  passed  on  the  subject. 


i.]  ETON   IN    1802  13 

Galileo  Person,  but  still  the  first  man  who  put  us 
on  the  right  scent.* 

Under  the  auspices  of  Dr.  Burney  was  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  scholarship  and  classical  tastes 
in  which  his  young  pupil  afterwards  became  so 
proficient.  From  Greenwich  and  the  care  of  Dr. 
Burney,  Henry  Milman,  at  the  age  of  eleven,  was 
transferred  to  Eton,  where  he  was  admitted  as  a 
King's  scholar  in  the  election  of  1802.  For  the 
greater  part  of  Milman's  school  days  Eton  was 
under  the  rule  of  Dr.  Goodall,  a  very  popular 
master  ;  and  it  was  not  until  his  acceptance  of  the 
provostship  in  1809  that  he  was  succeeded  by  Dr. 
Keate,  the  succession,  as  not  unfrequently  happens 
on  a  change  of  dynasty,  being  marked  by  decidedly 
strained  relations  between  the  new  master  and  a 
faction  among  the  boys,  which  more  than  once 
broke  out  into  actual  riot.  The  sixth-form  collegers, 
between  whom  and  the  oppidans  the  feeling  was 
not  always  friendly,  took  no  part  in  these  disturb- 
ances, but  on  the  contrary  were  disposed  to  uphold 
Keate's  authority,  who  in  their  opinion  had  been 
treated  somewhat  unfairly,  his  enemies  among  the 
boys  being  apparently  of  opinion  that  the  best  mode 
of  evincing  their  regret  for  Goodall  was  by  dis- 
respect and  mutiny  towards  his  successor.  My 
father's  letters  from  school  are  full  of  references  to 
its  disturbed  condition. 

You  could  not  [he  writes  to  his  friend  William 
*  "  Life  and  Letters  of  Dr.  Samuel  Butler,"  i.  146. 


14  GOODALL  AND  KEATE  [CHAP. 

Harness  *]  have  picked  a  much  more  unfortunate 
time  for  my  making  a  friend  of  Gambier.  It  is  not 
unlikely  that  we  shall  have  a  serious  rumpus  here  ; 
civil  dudgeon  is  growing  very  high.  The  best  part 
of  the  joke  is  that  there  is  no  reason  in  the  world 
for  it,  excepting  the  genuine  spirit  of  O.P.  The 
sixth-form  collegers  determined  to  oppose  such 
senseless  folly.  Accordingly,  your  humble  servant, 
in  quality  of  prseposter — in  Harrow  dialect  monitor — 
seized  one  of  the  ringleaders,  and  carried  him  to 
Keate.  This  has  given  a  turn  to  it,  and  perhaps 
is  likely  to  breed  divisions  between  collegers  and 
oppidans.  What  part  Gambier  takes  in  it  I  do  not 
know,  but  I  should  hope  he  had  nothing  to  do  with 
a  business  which  has  neither  head  nor  tail.  Entre 
nous,  if  there  was  as  much  spirit  among  our 
O.P.'s  as  among  their  prototypes  at  Harrow,  we 
should  have  flat  rebellion,  as  Jack  Falstaff  says. 
But  my  Lord  Byron  per  contra,  the  age  of  chivalry 
is  over  :  vulgarly,  there  is  no  spirit  nowadays.  One 
of  the  assistant  masters  is  the  chief  object  of 
abomination — a  man  whom  I  cannot  say  I  admire  ; 
but  Keate  comes  in  for  a  share,  which  is  very  hard 
upon  him,  as  he  has  certainly  done  nothing  to 
give  offence.  I  believe  the  rioters  think  the  more 
noise  they  make  the  greater  respect  they  pay  to 
Goodall. 

Keate  had  plenty  of  courage,  but  in  manner 
was  far  from  conciliatory.  Writing  to  his  sister 
somewhat  later,  Milman  says  : — 

*  William  Harness,  born  1790,  died  1869,  was  educated  at 
Harrow,  where  he  contracted  a  friendship  with  Lord  Byron,  and  at 
Christ's  College,  Cambridge.  Mr.  Harness  is  best  remembered  by 
his  Edition  and  Life  of  Shakespeare.  In  later  life  he  was  incumbent 
of  All  Saints',  Knightsbridge,  a  district  church  in  the  parish  of 
St.  Margaret,  of  which  my  father  was  rector,  at  whose  suggestion, 
but  largely  through  the  personal  exertions  of  Mr.  Harness,  All 
Saints'  was  built. 


i.]  SCHOOL  FRIENDSHIPS  15 

I  am  sorry  to  say  we  have  had  another  small 
disturbance  here,  in  which,  as  before,  the  rioters 
were  completely  in  the  wrong.  Keate  talks  in  a 
very  spirited  manner,  and  I  must  say  I  think  he 
will  soon  be  more  feared  than  Goodall,  but  he  will 
never  be  so  much  beloved.  He  has  a  sharpness  in 
his  manner  which  must  prepossess  most  against  him, 
and  sometimes,  when  he  intends  to  be  particularly 
civil,  he  looks  as  if  he  would  knock  you  down. 
Moreover — and  this  was  against  him — he  did  not 
wear  a  wig. 

My  father  always  looked  back — what  old  Etonian 
does  not  ? — with  pleasure  to  the  years  of  his  school 
life,  and  some  few  reminiscences  of  them  may  still 
be  gleaned  from  letters  to  his  sister  and  to  Harness, 
who  were  the  chief  recipients  of  his  confidence. 
It  is  not  always  possible  to  assign  a  positive  date 
to  these  letters,  the  postal  stamps  being  often 
obliterated ;  but  they  give  the  impression  of  a  boy 
full  of  animation  and  high  spirits,  with  the  keenest 
enjoyment  of  school  life  and  its  surroundings,  and 
combining  with  this  an  ardent  addiction  to  the  more 
serious  duties  of  the  place,  an  inexhaustible  interest 
in  literature,  and  a  desire  for  scholarly  attainments. 
With  his  sister  he  discusses  new  books  and  poems ; 
with  Harness,  all  sorts  of  schemes  and  subjects  for 
poems  of  their  own  composition. 

Of  earlier  friendships  none  was  more  intimate 
than  that  which  my  father  formed  with  John  Taylor 
Coleridge — afterwards  Sir  John  Coleridge,  for  many 
years  a  judge  in  the  Queen's  Bench  and  a  Privy 
Councillor — a  friendship  which  endured  to  the  end, 


1 6  JOHN   TAYLOR   COLERIDGE  [CHAP. 

though  divergent  paths  in  life,  and  perhaps  divergent 
opinions,  may  in  later  years  have  caused  some  inter- 
ruption of  intercourse.  Coleridge  was  by  a  year  or 
two  my  father's  senior,  a  difference  which  goes  for 
much  in  school  days ;  so  Coleridge,  it  may  be 
inferred,  became  Milman's  confidant  and  adviser, 
to  whose  judgment  many  a  youthful  poem  was 
submitted. 

As  your  dear  father  [Sir  John  Coleridge  wrote 
to  me]  committed  his  lectures — delivered  as  Pro- 
fessor of  Poetry  at  Oxford — to  the  flames,  it  is 
probable  he  did  not  preserve  these  early  productions 
of  his  boyhood ;  yet  of  his  felicity  and  copiousness 
and  fancy  they  surely  bear  undeniable  witness. 

My  father  certainly  did  not  preserve  them,  but 
Sir  John  Coleridge  was  a  less  reckless  destroyer, 
and  was  so  good  as  to  send  me  after  my  father's 
death  several  MS.  volumes  of  his  poems  in  English, 
in  Latin,  and  in  Greek.  Of  these,  two  may 
perhaps  be  named,  and  only  named :  one,  some 
lines  on  the  death  of  a  schoolfellow  and  friend, 
L.  Shawe,  who  was  drowned  at  Eton  on  May  i5th, 
1807 — a  genuine  expression  of  feeling;  and  the 
other  a  longer  poem,  "  Isabel  d'Autin,"  thus  referred 
to  by  Sir  John  Coleridge  : — 

It  was  addressed  to  his  sister.  Scott  had  set  the 
example  of  such  introductions  in  "  Marmion."  I 
mention  this  now  for  another  reason.  Your  father 
and  Duckenfield  (our  contemporary)  had  each  a 
sister  at  home  older  than  themselves.  I  had  one 
sister,  much  my  junior,  at  that  time  rather  my  pet 


L]  LIFE   IN   LONG   CHAMBER  17 

than  my  adviser  or  helper.  The  happiness  these 
had  in  their  sisters  is  so  deeply  impressed  on  my 
mind  as  always  to  have  remained,  and  has  led  me 
often  to  urge  on  my  granddaughters  how  much  use 
and  comfort  they  might  be  to  their  brothers  at 
school.  In  our  days  there  were  real  hardships  in 
college  at  Eton ;  and,  besides  these,  there  are 
always  little  difficulties  and  scrapes  at  school.  I 
saw,  as  to  these,  how  your  father  and  D.  seemed  to 
lean  on  their  sisters,  and  what  natural  advisers  and 
helpers  and  intercessors  they  were. 

Some  lines,  with  the  date  of  March,  1809,  a^- 
dressed  to  J.  T.  Coleridge  on  his  leaving  Eton, 
may  also  just  be  mentioned,  as  illustrating  the 
friendship  and  admiration  with  which  the  older  was 
regarded  by  the  younger  boy. 

Life  in  the  Long  Chamber  nearly  a  century  ago 
was  no  doubt  a  pretty  rough  one,  but  amusements 
to  enliven  it  were  not  wanting  : — 

We  have  established  in  college — but  at  present  we 
keep  it  entirely  to  ourselves,  and  it  would  be  better 
if  it  were  not  made  too  public — a  small  theatre  ; 
and  I  assure  you  we  make  no  despicable  figure  in 
broad  farce,  having  attempted  nothing  beyond  the 
Heir-at-Law  and  a  few  farces  as  yet.  We  are 
getting  up  the  Poor  Gentleman  with  all  possible 
expedition  ;  and  as  we  have  no  very  flaming  critics, 
we  expect  to  come  off  with  grand  e"clat. 

And  somewhat  later  on  : — 

Our  theatricals  are  rather  at  a  btop,  owing  to  our 
Provost  being  resident,  who  unfortunately  in  his 
house  can  hear  everything  done  in  Long  Chamber ; 
and  though  he  laughed  at  one  of  us  the  other  day 


1 8  THEATRICALS  AND   PRIZES  [CHAP. 

whom  he  overheard  rehearsing  to  his  great  amuse- 
ment, yet  he  certainly  would  stop  us  before  long  if 
we  din  in  his  ears  and  disturb  his  midnight  couch 
with  our  unlawful  thunders.  We  acted  Tom  Thumb 
the  other  day,  and  a  most  ludicrous  piece  of  work  it 
was.  I  [a  future  Dean  of  St.  Paul's],  being  of  an 
elegant  height  and  shape,  represented  the  Queen  of 
the  Giants,  and  with  wooden-soled  shoes  of  about 
four  inches,  a  kind  of  cap  about  one  yard  high, 
managed  to  cut  a  pretty  Brobdingnagian  appearance. 
We  certainly  amused  ourselves  and  other  people  to 
no  small  degree. 

But  time  slipped  away,  and  Milman  began  to 
be  anxious  about  his  future  plans.  As  a  colleger 
at  Eton,  he  might  reasonably  look  forward  to  a 
fellowship  at  King's  College,  Cambridge  ;  but  the 
elections  were  by  seniority,  and  unless  a  vacancy 
or  vacancies  occurred  in  the  year  when  his  name 
stood  first  on  the  list  of  Eton  King's  scholars  it 
would  be  removed,  and  the  nomination  would  be 
lost.  Writing  to  his  sister,  March  3Oth,  1810, 
he  says : — 

I  have  got  a  prize  and  a  cough  :  what  business 
they  have  together  I  do  not  know.  The  prize 
is  ^5,  I  suppose  to  be  received  in  books  left  by 
the  late  Provost  for  declamation.  There  is  also 
a  ten-pounder  for  Easter  task,  but  the  will  is  so 
worded  that  it  is  a  point  of  law  whether  the  same 
person  may  get  both ;  I  believe  they  wish  it  to 
be  decided  that  he  may.  I  have  just  heard  a 
curious  fact  which  was  told  Lloyd  by  the  man 
himself.  Plumptre,  a  King's  man,  who  resigned  last 
year,  intended  certainly  to  have  kept  his  resignation 
for  this  year;  but  Goodall,  knowing  he  was  going 


i.]       CHOICE  OF  UNIVERSITY  AND   COLLEGE       19 

to  be  married,  without  his  authority  promised  it 
[the  fellowship]  to  Pole,  who  was  the  last  who 
went  off  last  year.  Plumptre,  finding  that  on  the 
strength  of  this  promise  Pole  had  given  up  till 
too  late  every  endeavour  to  procure  himself  a  re- 
signation, sent  in  his  resignation  to  the  Provost 
of  King's,  but  worded  in  such  a  manner  as  to  let 
him  know  that  it  was  not  voluntary.  So  that  if  I 
lose  King's  by  one,  Goodall  is  undoubtedly  the 
cause  of  it. 

And  to  Harness  previously  on  the  2ist  : — 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  have  scarce  any  chance 
of  coming  to  King's,  or  indeed  to  Cambridge  at 
all.  I  myself  should  for  many  reasons  prefer 
Oxford,  though  I  have  some  friends  at  the  former 
place  whose  society  I  have  reckoned  on  for  some 
time.  My  father  talks  of  Oriel  for  me,  which  is 
certainly  one  of  the  first  colleges. 

Ultimately  it  was  decided  that  he  should  be 
entered  at  Brasenose,  and  at  that  college  he 
matriculated  on  May  loth,  1810.  Writing  to  his 
sister  from  Eton  some  days  later,  he  says  : — 

I  have  been  to  Oxford,  and  have  read  the  "  Lady 
of  the  Lake."  Which  shall  I  begin  with  ?  Oxford 
is  the  most  beautiful  place  I  ever  saw  ;  the  "  Lady  of 
the  Lake"  one  of  the  most  beautiful  poems.  My 
own  college  you  may  know  by  its  wearing  on  its 
gate  the  insignia  of  a  Brazen  Nose.  When  I  get 
to  Oxford,  I  shall  busy  myself  to  enquire  who  it 
belonged  to  :  perhaps  to  Brazen  Mask.  Sterne,  in 
his  chapter  on  Noses,  does  not  mention  it;  but  I 
suppose  it  is  held  an  insult  on  the  whole  college 
should  any  impertinent  fellow  pull  our  nose.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  I  hope  to  be  very  comfortable  at 


20  CHANCELLORSHIP   OF  OXFORD  [CHAP. 

the  college.  And  now  I  am  to  make  a  proposition 
to  you.  Prepare  all  your  powers  of  eloquence ;  if 
that  avails  nothing  at  "  heart-rending  woe,"  pull  out 
your  white  pocket-handkerchief;  and  all  this,  I  don't 
doubt,  will  persuade  my  father  to  carry  you  to 
Oxford  to  the  Installation,  and  I  suppose  I  shall 
not  be  left  behind.  It  lasts  four  days — is  to  be 
the  finest  sight  that  ever  was.  Poets  are  tuning 
their  lyres,  college  kitchens  putting  their  saucepans 
in  order,  heads  of  houses  powdering  their  best  wigs. 
At  Brazen  Nose — for  in  the  election  of  a  Chancellor 
the  whole  of  the  University  followed  our  nose — it 
is  to  be  grand  beyond  my  powers  of  description. 
The  whole  college  to  dine  on  plate.  New  chairs 
of  dimensions  far  exceeding  any  yet  heard  of  are 
prepared.  I  hear  of  many  famous  people  who  are 
to  write  congratulatory  pretty  things  which  the 
Chancellor  (God  bless  his  patience)  is  to  listen  to. 
Delegates  will  be  appointed  from  each  college.  At 
Brasenose  the  men  are  chosen  :  a  nobleman,  a  man 
of  property,  and  a  clever  man — the  latter  is  Johnson, 
the  John  the  Baptist  man.  Many  people  write  and 
send  odes  for  others  to  recite.  Southey  writes  for 
Balliol,  Bowles  for  Trinity.  I  believe  my  friend 
Coleridge  will  be  chosen  for  Corpus.  Will  not  all 
this  do  ?  Balls,  concerts  every  night.  All  the  world 
will  be  there,  and  Mrs.  All  the  World  into  the 
bargain.  It  is  about  the  gth  of  July.  If  my 
father  should  like  it,  let  me  know,  and  I  will 
employ  somebody  to  get  apartments. 

The  Installation  referred  to  was  that  of  Lord 
Grenville,  who  had  been  elected  Chancellor  on 
December  i4th,  1809,  after  a  close  contest,  the 
other  candidates  being  Lord  Eldon  and  the  Duke 
of  Beaufort.  The  Installation,  a  brilliant  affair,  is 
described  in  letters  to  his  sister  and  Harness. 


i.]          INSTALLATION  OF   LORD   GRENVILLE          21 

Writing   to   the   latter   from    Eton    on    July    nth, 
he  says : — 

I  am  just  returned  from  the  Oxford  Installation, 
a  sufficient  excuse,  I  hope,  for  your  letter  remaining 
unanswered  so  long.  It  certainly  was  one  of  the 
most  magnificent  spectacles  ever  seen.  The  day 
was  entirely  occupied  with  recitations,  music,  and 
balls,  not  to  omit  the  addition  of  the  balloon.  You 
cannot  conceive  my  envy  of  the  people  seated  in 
the  car.  One  man  offered  three  hundred  guineas  for 
a  flight,  which  was  refused.  The  complimentary 
verses,  as  one  might  expect,  were  too  full  of  Muses 
and  Apollo  and  classic  shades  to  be  very  interesting, 
though  there  were  occasionally  some  extremely 
beautiful  lines.  There  were  some  lines  of  Southey's — 
of  course  nothing  could  be  more  obnoxious  to 
true  academical  grizzle- wigs,  who  have  grown  old 
on  the  same  round  of  Homer  and  Horace  ;  but 
what  ruined  them  in  the  opinion  of  men  of  more 
liberal  ideas  was  a  most  execrable  recitation  by 
a  man  who  united  the  drone  of  a  pair  of  bagpipes 
with  the  true  tabernacle  whine.  I  wished  for  some 
method  of  conveying  my  dislike  of  the  reciter  and 
approbation  of  the  poetry ;  but  as  that  was  im- 
practicable, I  kept  the  medium  of  holding  my  tongue. 
One  man  had  at  least  ten  lines  to  commemorate 
my  Lady  Grenville's  beauty,  accomplishments,  and 
taste  for  mineralogy,  not  forgetting  her  pretty  house 
and  grounds  in  some  heathen  country  whose  name  I 
have  forgot.  My  friend  Coleridge  got  the  prize  for 
Latin  verse  upon  the  Dying  Gladiator.  I  hope  you 
have  met  with  it ;  the  lines  are  excellent.  .  .  .  We 
had  a  most  glorious  disturbance  about  old  Sheridan. 
It  was  quite  shocking  that  the  author  of  the  School 
for  Scandal,  and  one  of  the  first  political  characters 
of  the  kingdom,  should  be  denied  a  Doctor's  gown 
merely  because  he  likes  to  keep  the  colour  in  his 


22  BRILLIANT   UNIVERSITY  CAREER        [CHAP. 

face  by  a  plentiful  infusion  of  port.  By-the-bye,  to 
show  them  how  little  he  regarded  it,  he  got  dead 
drunk,  and  was  carried  out  a  corpse  from  some 
college  party. 

Milman  went  into  residence  at  Brasenose  at  the 
commencement  of  the  October  term,  1810  :— 

Here  I  am  safe  lodged  at  No.  3,  surrounded  with 
books,  and  no  shelves  put  up  yet ;  in  short,  in  a 
most  delightful  chaos  of  literature,  the  wind  whistling 
the  prettiest  concert  imaginable,  and  I  illustrating 
Mr.  Southey's  "Tis  pleasant  by  the  cheerful  hearth 
to  hear  of  tempests,"  etc. 

But  [a  few  days  later]  what  I  am  to  learn  here 
rather  puzzles  me  at  present ;  for  of  our  three  tutors 
one  can  lecture  and  never  does,  another  cannot  and 
always  does,  the  third  neither  can  nor  does.  I 
have  all  my  books  about  me,  and  am  as  comfortable 
as  a  man  can  be  who  has  to  make  acquaintances.  I 
intend  to  read  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  mile  every  day. 

My  father's  career  at  Oxford  was  a  brilliant  one, 
and  seldom  have  so  many  prizes  been  accumulated 
in  the  same  hands.  He  won  the  Newdigate  in 
1812,  the  Chancellor's  Prize  for  Latin  Verse  in  1813, 
the  English  and  Latin  Essays  in  1816;  having  in 
the  meantime  obtained  a  first  class  in  Classics  (1813), 
and  in  1815  having  been  elected  a  fellow  of  his 
college.  In  addition  to  all  these  prizes,  the 
Chancellor  of  the  University,  Lord  Grenville,  sent 
him  a  present  of  books,  accompanied  by  a  letter 
congratulating  him  upon  his  repeated  success,  and 
auguring  a  brilliant,  useful  future  for  a  course  so 
well  begun. 


i.]  PRIZE   POEMS  23 

It  is  the  fashion  [says  Christopher  North  in  one 
of  the  (t  Noctes"]  to  undervalue  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge Prize  Poems,  but  it  is  a  stupid  fashion. 
Many  of  them  are  most  beautiful.  Heber's  "  Pales- 
tine," a  flight  as  upon  angels'  wings  over  the  Holy 
Land.  Tickler ;  more  than  one  of  Brougham's 
prize  poems  are  excellent ;  .  .  .  and  Milman's 
"  Apollo  Belvidere"  splendid,  beautiful,  and  majestic. 

Lord  Tennyson,  speaking  of  Prize  Poems,  says 
that  they,  not  even  Milmaris,  should  be  regarded 
as  poems ;  and  if  an  Ingoldsby  Legend  may  be 
quoted  in  such  august  company — 

His  lines  on  Apollo 
Beat  all  the  rest  hollow, 

And  gain'd  him  the  Newdigate  Prize. 

On  the  subject  of  this  prize  poem  he  writes  to  his 
sister  : — 

You  must  know  that  the  honours  of  my  poor 
11  Apollo"  are  not  yet  exhausted.  I  found  here  a 
billet-doux  full  of  verses  from  a  lady  (postmark 
Bristol) — and  the  verses  were  very  good  verses  too, 
of  course — all  about  my  having  Apollo's  shell, 
etc.,  etc.  N.B. — John  Townshend  swears  it  is  an 
old  woman's  hand.  What  is  more  important,  the 
poem  sold  so  well  that  Parker,  the  bookseller,  sent 
me  a  beautiful  set  of  books — Todd's  "  Milton " — 
for  my  copyright. 

The  prize  poem  had,  as  usual,  to  be  recited  in  the 
Theatre  at  Commemoration,  at  which — 

Among  our  other  distinguished  visitors,  we  had 
Prince  Koslowski  (Taimable  rout,  as  he  is  repre- 
sented in  St.  James's  Street).  He  and  I  are  very 
great  friends,  and  a  most  extremely  clever  fellow  he 
is.  He  is  a  most  excellent  classical  scholar, 


24  REMINISCENCES   OF  OXFORD  [CHAP. 

and  knows  more  of  English  literature  than  half 
the  literary  characters  in  England.  Old  Warren 
Hastings  had  an  honorary  degree  also,  which  got 
the  men's  hands  into  clapping  famously  before  I 
made  my  dtbiit.  There  was  one  character  present 
whom  I  regret  very  much  not  having  distinguished — 
Hannah  More.  I  rather  wonder  the  name  of 
Theatre  did  not  alarm  the  good  lady. 

A  few  miscellaneous  extracts  from  his  correspond- 
ence while  an  undergraduate  may  be  interesting  as 
dim  reminiscences  of  Oxford  in  the  early  years  of 
the  century.  Thus  in  a  letter  to  his  sister  of  May, 
1812,  while  anxiously  awaiting  for  the  decision  on 
the  prizes  to  be  declared  : — 

As  for  myself  [riots  in  Nottingham  and  elsewhere 
were  prevalent,  and  the  country  had  been  startled 
by  news  of  the  assassination  of  Mr.  Perceval],  I  think 
we  shall  be  murdered  before  they  [the  prizes]  are 
settled  ;  or  perhaps  it  might  be  rather  against  me 
with  his  majesty  the  Mob,  and,  like  Jack  Cade's 
friend  the  Clerk  of  Chatham,  they  might  hang  me 
with  my  inkhorn  round  my  neck  for  not  having  a 
mark  (X)  to  myself  like  a  plain-dealing  man,  and 
being  guilty  of  the  heinous  offence  of  being  able  to 
write,  not  plain  prose,  but  heathenish  rhyme.  We 
have  lost  our  character  as  a  nation,  and  I  shall  begin 
to,  look  out  for  a  passage  to  the  Brazils  or  Mr. 
Wilson's  Isle  of  the  Palms.  Will  you  go  with 
me  ?  I  hope  the  account  of  the  bonfires,  ringing  of 
bells,  and  drum-beating  at  Nottingham  is  at  least 
exaggerated.  It  is  an  undoubted  fact  that  there 
were  hisses  in  the  gallery  at  the  Lyceum  directly 
the  news  was  heard.  What  do  you  think  of  the 
feeling  of  our  tutors  ?  One  of  them  sagely  observed 
that  "he  supposed  it  would  produce  a  change  in  the 


i.]  WORDSWORTH   THE   POET  25 

administration."  Another  said,  "  What  a  sad  acci- 
dent f  "  We  are  pretty  quiet  here  as  yet ;  but  they 
have  begun  at  Cambridge  with  this  unaccountable 
business  at  Sidney  College.*  I  received  a  letter 
from  Dampier  the  other  day,  which  said  that  the 
Bow  Street  officers  they  had  had  down  about  it  say 
they  never  saw  so  many  schools  in  a  town  in  their 
lives,  and  they  would  recommend  the  Sidney  boys  to 
search  their  boxes  to  see  if  they  have  lost  anything. 

Probably  about  the  same  time,  but  only  an 
undated  fragment  of  the  letter  has  survived,  he 
describes  a  meeting  with  Wordsworth  : — 

Who  do  you  think  I  supped  in  company  with  the 
other  night  ?  No  less  a  person  than  Wordsworth 
the  poet.  He  is  Cookson's  first  cousin,  and  we  had 
a  very  delightful  trio.  He  is  an  odd  fish  to  look  at, 
but  a  remarkably  pleasant  man  ;  a  great  deal  of  soul 
in  his  conversation,  but  not  in  the  least  overbearing. 
He  allowed  the  faults  of  his  friends  Coleridge  and 
Southey,  particularly  the  German  metaphysics  of  the 
former.  In  one  place,  to  be  sure,  he  put  me  in 
mind  of  Sir  Fretful ;  he  had  been  told  that  the 
Edinburgh  reviewers  had  honoured  them  with 
unqualified  abuse.  I  asked  him  about  Southey' s 
going  before  the  House  of  Commons.  He  said 
Southey  had  intended  simply  to  have  pleaded  Privi- 
lege of  History  against  Privilege  of  Parliament,  and 
to  have  written  two  or  three  plain,  pithy  sentences 
of  defence. f  "  Pelayo,"  he  was  surprised  to  hear, 
was  advertised ;  he  thought  it  only  just  begun. 
Wordsworth  was  here  the  very  day  my  friend 
Coleridge  passed  the  most  splendid  examination 
ever  passed  since  I  have  been  at  Oxford,  which 

*  There  had  been  a  series  of  mysterious  robberies  in  the  college^ 
t  See  "  Life  and  Correspondence  of  Robert  Southey,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  324. 


26  ODD   CHARACTERS  [CHAP. 

delighted  him  much.     He  gave  me  an  invitation  to 
Grasmere. 

And  in  another  letter,  this  time  to  Harness  : — 

We  have  an  odd  kind  of  fish  just  come  here 
to  B.  N.  C.,  who  was  at  Harrow,  of  the  name  of 
Lowndes.  They  swore  that  he  ate  ^Eschylus  and 
Pindar  between  his  bread-and-butter,  and  slept  with 
Thucydides  for  his  bolster.  I  began  to  be  mightily 
alarmed  at  him.  However,  he  does  not  turn  out 
such  a  monster.  I  find  he  eats  rolls  and  butter 
like  a  Christian,  and  I  rather — though  a  marvellous, 
rough,  unpolished  kind  of  animal — like  him  than 
not.  .  .  . 

You  are  not  aware,  perhaps,  of  a  new  turn  in  my 
character.  A  Methodist ical  cleaner  of  breeches  had 
great  hopes  of  converting  me  to  the  true  faith.  I 
desired  him  to  bring  me  some  of  his  books  the 
other  day,  that  I  might  examine  his  tenets ;  and 
when  I  was  going  to  bed,  I  felt  a  strange  inmate 
in  my  nightcap.  On  examination,  I  found  that  he 
had  wrapped  up  three  little  tracts  in  it,  and  laid  it 
very  quietly  on  my  bolster.  So  that  Sir  John 
Sinclair's  definition  of  a  nightcap  is  not  extensive 
enough :  it  not  only  being  meant  to  keep  the  hair 
from  being  tumbled,  but  as  a  covering  for  Christian 
knowledge. 

Some  weeks  of  the  long  vacation  in  this  year 
(1812)  were  devoted  to  a  walking  tour  in  Scotland, 
which  is  described  in  a  series  of  interesting  letters 
to  his  sister,  but  over  ground  now  so  well  known 
that  the  letters  will  not  bear  transcription.  It  is 
amusing,  however,  even  at  this  early  date,  to  find 
a  groan  over  the  irruption  of  tourists  at  Loch 
Katrine,  which  was  visited  towards  the  end  of 


TOUR   IN   SCOTLAND  27 

the  tour,  on  descending  from  a  district  then  com- 
paratively unfrequented  : — 

The  worst  part  of  visiting  Loch  Katrine  is  the 
complete  antidote  to  the  effect  of  fine  solitary  scenery 
caused  by  the  seeing  a  collection  of  carriages  at  the 
water's  edge,  and  fine  flaunting  figures,  with  parasols 
and  flying  trimmings,  sauntering  among  the  rocks. 
The  day  I  was  there  two  chariots  and  one  coach- 
ful  came — that  on  a  bad  day,  at  least  what  ap- 
peared a  bad  one  in  the  morning.  Five  hundred 
names  were  in  the  book  of  Callender  as  visitants 
this  year.  How  many  from  love  of  scenery  ?  how 
many  from  fashion  ? 

Returning  through  the  English  Lake  country,  he 
paid  his  respects  to  Southey  : — 

Not  a  word  about  Southey  yet.  I  am  sure  you 
will  think  me  very  forbearing.  I  have  seen  him  two 
or  three  times.  He  has  all  the  earnestness  of  a  poet 
entirely  without  affectation. 

The  year  1814  was  made  memorable  in  the  annals 
of  Oxford  by  the  visit  of  the  Allied  Sovereigns  with 
the  Prince  Regent  in  June.  But  before  coming  to 
this,  a  letter  may  be  quoted  referring  to  another 
visitor  to  the  University,  the  Grand  Duchess  of 
Oldenburg,*  who  seems  to  have  afforded  some 
amusement : — 

The  Duchess  amused  us  pretty  well,  for  a  day  or 
two  looking  at  her,  and  a  few  more  talking  of  her. 
She  determined  to  see  everything,  was  tired  getting 
up  to  the  top  of  the  Radcliffe  Library,  sat  down, 

*  Sister  of  the  Emperor  Alexander. 


28  THE   DUCHESS   OF   OLDENBURG          [CHAP. 

and  made  the  two  Proctors  sit  on  each  side  of  her. 
Dialogue  between  her  Highness  and  one  of  our 
noblemen  :  "  May  I  ask  what  your  lordship's  studies 
are?"  "  General,  madam."  "  But  what  particular 
books  do  you  read?"  "  None,  madam."  "  Then 
I  find  that  I  have  been  rightly  informed  that  lords 
read  nothing  here."  Dialogue  the  second  (the 
Duchess  and  Dr.  Barnes,  the  Sub-Dean  of  Christ 
Church)  :  "  Pray,  sir,  may  I  ask  what  branch  of 
literature  you  preside  over?"  "  None,  madam." 
"  But  what  are  you  professor  of?"  "I  am  not  a 
professor,  madam."  "  You  take  the  part  of  Theology, 
perhaps?"  "  No-o,  madam."  "  Law,  perhaps?" 
A  still  more  puzzled  "  No"  followed  from  the 
Doctor ;  and  the  same  answer  he  made  to  all  the 
questions  she  put  to  him  afterwards.  Degrees 
were  subsequently  conferred  on  Prince  Gagarin 
and  General  Turner,  at  which  her  Highness  was 
present.  She  is  pretty,  and  very  pleasing  in  her 
manner,  but  a  little  too  like  a  Calmuck  in  her 
mouth. 

Then  follows  a  by  no  means  flattering  description 
of  her  attendants,  which  it  will  perhaps  be  discreet 
to  omit.  He  continues  : — 

The  Emperors  are  to  come,  but  there  are  great 
doubts  and  questions  about  their  reception — whether 
they  can  contrive  to  have  the  Commemoration  at 
the  same  time  or  not.  I  have  had  a  hint  from 
Hodson  *  about  complimentary  verses,  if  any  are 
spoken,  which  is  not  certain.  The  way  they  re- 
ceived King  James  was  that  the  Vice-Chancellor, 
Proctors,  etc.,  rode  out  on  horseback,  with  lackeys 
and  foot-cloths  ;  on  the  King's  arrival  they  dis- 
mounted, knelt  down,  and  the  Vice-Chancellor  made 

*  Rev.  Fordsham  Hodson,  Principal  of  Brasenose,  1809-1822. 


i.]  ALLIED   SOVEREIGNS   VISIT  OXFORD  29 

a  Latin  speech.  How  it  would  make  the  Emperors 
stare  !  Other  kings  they  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
receiving  with  logical  disputations. 

The  visit  was  fixed  for  June   I4th.     All  Oxford 
was  in  a  flutter  of  excitement  and  preparation  : — 

I  like  your  flattering  yourself  [my  father  writes  on 
the  i  ith]  that  I,  to  whom  all  the  Emperors  and  Kings 
are  going  to  pay  a  visit,  should  have  time  to  write 
to  you.  We  are  all  at  work  at  preparations,  the  big- 
wigs hunting  out  precedents,  the  barbers  powdering 
said  big-wigs,  carpenters  raising  platforms,  cooks 
imagining  dinners,  and  poets  writing  complimentary 
verses  :  among  the  last  I  rank.  I  wrote  a  copy  at 
Hodson's  request,  which  was  only  much  too  good 
for  the  occasion,  as  he  said,  and  unfortunately  three 
times  too  long.  Whether  the  old  folk  will  like  it  or 
not  I  cannot  tell,  but  I  flatter  myself  it  is  much  too 
independent  for  them  to  approve  of.  I  suspect  they 
[the  authorities]  will  choose  nothing  but  gross  flattery, 
which  I  will  not  write,  so  that  we  shall  not  agree. 
Another  question  is  whether  the  authors  are  to 
speak  or  the  noblemen.  If  they  choose  mine,  I 
insist  positively  on  speaking  myself.  Who  knows 
but  the  Emperor  may  appoint  me  his  Poet  Laureate  ? 
However,  it  is  a  vile  aristocracy,  as  if  they  paid  the 
visit  to  Oxford  as  to  the  school  of  young  high-born 
cubs  and  to  see  purple  and  gold  gowns  instead  of  a 
literary  place.  They  are  searching  for  precedents. 
Unfortunately  all  they  can  find  is  the  reception  of 
James  I.,  before  whom  the  young  men  performed 
Latin  plays,  which  unavoidably  set  him  asleep  or 
made  him  swear;  and  that  of  James  II.,  before 
whom  the  Vice-Chancellor  plumped  on  his  knees  in 
the  mud  and  made  a  Latin  speech  to.  They  are 
jealous  of  the  undergraduates,  they  are  quarrelling 
with  each  other,  and,  in  short,  it  is  very  amusing. 


30  CONGRATULATORY  ODES  [CHAP. 

It  is  said  the  Prince,  by  way  of  shirking  the  Dean 
of  Christ  Church,  has  expressed  his  intention  of 
going  to  Merton,  for  the  more  convenient  attendance 
of  his  physician,  Sir  H.  Halford.  The  Cossacks 
are  to  bivouac  in  Merton  meadow,  and  the  Hetman 
Platoff  is  to  be  remunerated  for  his  services  by  being 
created  Doctor  of  Laws.  Some  say  the  Prince  will 
be  hissed,  and  Lord  Essex,  who  is  coming,  violently 
applauded.  If  a  degree  to  Lord  Yarmouth  be  brought 
in  question,  it  will  be  refused  most  probably.  Lines 
to  be  spoken  in  compliment  to  the  Regent : — 

Who  made  the  fierce  Muscovian  burn  his  town  ? 

The  Regent,  with  his  whiskers  curl'd  and  brown. 

Who  by  Vittoria  ruled  the  battle-storm  ? 

The  Regent,  with  his  fine  new  uniform. 

Who  made  the  harvest  bloom  so  fine  and  yellow  ? 

It  was  the  Regent,  who  was  rather  mellow. 

And  who  by  Leipsic  Bonaparte  beat? 

It  was  the  Regent,  with  his  splendid  fete. 

And  who  in  Paris  set  King  Louis  up  ? 

The  Regent,  who  invited  him  to  sup. 

On  the  appointed  day  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  the 
King  of  Prussia,  and  the  Prince  Regent  paid  their 
anxiously  expected  visit  to  Oxford,  where  they  were 
received  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm,  and  were 
sumptuously  entertained  with  banquets,  illumina- 
tions, congratulatory  odes,  and  addresses.  Milman's 
ode,  for  whatever  reason,  had  not  been  accepted. 
He  refers  to  this  in  the  following  letter  to  his  sister, 
and  gives  some  account  of  the  reception  of  the  royal 
visitors  : — 

I  send  enclosed  two  copies  of  certain  odes  of  my 
fabrication.  The  first  was  intended  to  have  been 
spoken  at  the  royal  visit ;  but  it  was  formally  noted 


i.]  MAGNIFICENT   RECEPTION  31 

to  me  that  it  was  too  long,  and  I  was  advised,  among 
others  by  the  Poetry  Professor,  who  judged  about 
them,  to  print  it.  I  appended  the  other  to  com- 
plete the  volume.  I  suspect  length  was  not  the  sole 
objection.  There  was  a  want  of  flattery  to  the  Prince 
Regent  which  did  not  suit.  Even  Coleridge  spoilt, 
in  my  opinion,  a  beautiful  ode  by  adding  a  stanza 
about  "  the  Brunswick  "  who, 


When  no  earthly  hope  was  given, 

Found  strength  and  confidence  in  Heaven. 


I  should  think  it  was  the  only  time  he  looked  that 
way  for  anything.  The  rest  were  not  very  strik- 
ing ;  the  one  most  applauded  was  a  parody  on  Mr. 
Fitzgerald's  "God  bless  the  Regent  and  the  Duke  of 
York."  I  was  grievously  disappointed  in  not  speak- 
ing, because  my  total  absence  of  flattery  would  have 
produced  a  good  effect  after  the  others.  The  whole 
sight  has  been  the  most  magnificent  which  can 
be  conceived :  the  newspapers  give  very  good 
general  detail,  but  the  splendour  of  the  dinner  in 
the  Radcliffe  Library  and  the  Theatre  surpassed  all 
imagination.  The  Royal  Personages  were  com- 
pletely astonished  themselves.  They  say  the  Prince 
intends  to  hold  his  Court  here,  the  applause  he 
met  with  being  so  extraordinary  to  him.  He  went 
through  everything  admirably — bowed  to  the  com- 
pliments most  gracefully,  and  nudged  the  Emperor 
when  he  ought  to  bow.  The  Emperor  is  a  fine, 
noble-looking  man  ;  the  King  of  Prussia,  awkward 
and  like  a  drill  sergeant ;  Blucher,  a  fine  German- 
looking  old  fellow  with  large  mustachios.  The 
city  was  illuminated  at  night,  and  you  may  conceive 
the  splendour  only  by  considering  the  High  Street 
in  a  complete  blaze,  nothing  dark  but  the  spires  of 
churches.  St.  Mary's  was  lit  up  at  the  University's 
expense,  all  the  gate  and  three  of  the  windows 


32  ILLUMINATIONS  [CHAP. 

traced  in  lamps,  the  pinnacles  connected  by  festoons 
of  light.  Hodson's  house  was  very  tasteful ;  Queen's 
splendid ;  the  gateway  of  Magdalen  very  finely 
ornamented ;  and  the  little  church  at  the  end  of 
Magdalen  Bridge  closed  the  whole,  surmounted  by 
a  brilliant  coronet  of  lamps. 


ii.]  "FAZIO"  33, 


CHAPTER   II. 

Fazio — Its  Success  upon  the  Stage — Miss  Fanny  Kemble  and 
Madame  Ristori — "Samor" — Correspondence  with  Sir  John 
Coleridge— Letter  from  Paris,  1815. 

THAT  Milman  during  the  years  of  his  life  as  an 
undergraduate  was  steadily  devoting  himself 
to  the  studies  of  the  place  is  apparent  from  the 
result ;  but  his  time  was  certainly  not  wholly  given 
to  what  is  usually  considered  academical  learning. 
His  tragedy  Fazio  was  written  while  he  was  still 
at  Oxford,  and  appeared  soon  after  he  had  taken 
his  Bachelor's  degree,  being  put  upon  the  stage 
without  the  author's  knowledge,  and  without  his 
consent  being  in  any  single  instance  solicited. 
Dramatic  copyright  was  then  unprotected,  and  it 
may  be  worth  while  even  now  to  quote  a  few  lines 
from  the  prefatory  observations  to  a  later  edition, 
to  illustrate  the  injustice  to  which,  previously  to 
the  Act  of  William  IV.,  the  author  of  a  play  might 
be  exposed  : — 

Its  first  appearance,  I  believe,  was  at  the  Surrey 
Theatre,  where  it  was  brought  forward  under  the 
name  of  the  Italian  Wife,  and  it  had  been  acted 
some  time  before  I  was  aware  that  the  piece  of 
that  name  was  my  work.  That  theatre  was  then, 

3 


34  ITS   SUCCESS   UPON  THE   STAGE         [CHAP-. 

I  believe,  only  licensed  for  operatic  performances, 
but  the  company  contrived  to  elude  this  restriction 
by  performing  all  kinds  of  dramas  with  what  they 
called  a  musical  accompaniment.  Every  now  and 
then  the  string  of  a  solitary  violin  was  heard,  while 
the  actors  went  on  in  their  parts  without  the 
slightest  regard  to  the  said  accompaniment,  and 
so  represented  any  drama  which  might  suit  their 
purpose.  It  was  in  this  manner  that  I  first  saw 
Fazio,  but  I  remember  that  the  actress  who 
personated  Bianca  only  wanted  a  better  audience 
to  improve  her  taste." 

If  the  author  might  fairly  complain  of  the  manner 
in  which  his  play  was  coolly  appropriated  without 
any  leave  or  licence  previously  obtained,  he  had 
no  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  result.  It 
was  acted  with  complete  success  at  Bath,  and 
arrangements  were  made  by  the  managers  of 
Covent  Garden  (though  still  without  any  notice 
of  their  intention)  for  its  production  on  the  London 
stage : — 

"  The  first  information  which  I  received  on  the 
subject  was  the  request  of  Mr.  Charles  Kemble, 
with  whom  I  was  then  but  slightly  acquainted 
through  my  intimate  friend  his  gifted  sister,  Mrs. 
Siddons,  to  permit  him  to  read  the  part  of  Fazio 


to  me." 


The  play  certainly  seems  to  have  taken  with  the 
public.  My  father  writes,  November  ist,  1818,  to 
his  sister  : — 

The  letter  you  sent  me  was  from  Miss  Somerville, 
hoping  that  I  should  criticise  if  in  London.  She 


IL]  MISS   O'NEILL  AS   BIANCA  35 

has  since  found  out  my  abode  at  Reading,  and 
sends  me  the  newspaper  here.  I  should  suppose 
she  has  succeeded.  The  Don  *  sent  me  an  extract 
from  the  Globe  newspaper,  which  outpuffed  all 
puff  yet  of  myself  and  Miss  Somerville.  But  you 
must  know,  most  impertinent  miss,  that  my 
London  fame  is  not  confined  to  Covent  Garden, 
the  Surrey,  and  Olympia.  They  are  playing  me 
with  wonderful  success  at  the  East  London  Theatre 
in  Goodman's  Fields,  with  a  Miss  Campbell  for 
heroine.  So  that  my  name  may  be  known  as  far 
as  Whitechapel  or  Hockley-in-the-Hole.  Pray 
inform  the  Baronet,  when  you  see  him,  that  his 
letter  was  safely  delivered  to  Mr.  Berry,  and  that 
if  the  Regent,  won  by  the  splendour  of  the  morocco, 
shall  insist  on  giving  me  a  deanery,  I  do  not  know 
that  I  shall  be  bashful.  I  wonder  if  I  shall  be  able 
to  say, — 

To  my  work's  immortal  credit, 

The  Prince,  dear  sir,  the  Prince  has  read  it. 

It  may  be  doubtful  whether  this  particular  credit 
was  secured  ;  but  it  is  a  fact  that,  in  spite  of  some 
adverse  criticism  and  obvious  blemishes  which  the 
author  in  later  days  would  not  have  been  slow 
to  acknowledge,  Fazio  held  possession  of  the  stage, 
and  has  been  acted  not  unfrequently  in  quite  recent 
years.  Bianca  has  been  a  favourite  character, 
especially  with  young  actresses.  A  tradition  of 
the  effect  made  by  Miss  O'Neill's  admirable  repre- 
sentation long  survived  among  older  playgoers, 
and  the  American  Journal  of  Miss  Kemble  relates 
the  sensation  made  by  her  own  personation  of 

*  A  nickname  for  his  brother  Frank. 


36  FANNY   KEMBLE  [CHAP. 

the  part  in  different  cities  of  the  United  States. 
Earlier,  in  the  "  Records  of  a  Girlhood,"  Mrs.  Butler 
(Fanny  Kemble)  thus  refers  to  her  appearance  in 
Fazio  at  Covent  Garden  : — 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  Fazio  has  made 
a  great  hit.  Milman  is  coming  to  see  me  in  it 
to-night.  I  wish  I  could  induce  him  to  write  me 
another  part. 

And  her  father,  Mr.  Charles  Kemble,  writing  under 
date  of  January  i4th,  1831,  says,  referring  to  this 
performance  : — 

I  have  secured  for  you  a  private  box  on  the  Bow 
Street  side,  close  to  the  stage,  where  Mrs.  Milman 
will  both  hear  and  see  perfectly  well.  In  my 
opinion  Bianca  is  far,  very  far  in  merit  beyond 
any  part  Fanny  has  yet  attempted.  May  it  appear 
so  to  you,  and  induce  you  to  write  another  tragedy, 
and  once  more  restore  to  us  the  bright  days  of  the 
Theatre.  It  was  with  great  reluctance  that  I  felt 
compelled  to  resign  Fazio — the  reason  for  which  I 
will  give  when  I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  in 
London. 

And  Miss  Kemble  herself  says  : — 

Did  my  mother  tell  you  in  her  note  that  Milman 
was  at  the  play  the  other  night,  and  said  I  had 
made  Bianca  exactly  what  he  intended  ? 

In  later  years,  after  her  unhappy  marriage,  Mrs. 
Butler  said  to  my  father,  "  I  could  not  act  Bianca 
now  ;  I  should  go  mad." 

Nor  can  any  one  who  had  the  privilege  of  seeing 


ii.]  MADAME   RISTORI  37 

it  forget  the  beautiful  impersonation  of  Bianca  by 
the  great  Italian  tragedienne,  Madame  Ristori,  at 
whose  performance,  during  one  of  her  earlier  visits 
to  England,  my  father,  then  Dean  of  St.  Paul's, 
was  present.  Madame  Ristori  told  him  that  she  had 
been  much  impressed  with  the  opportunities  offered 
by  the  play  for  a  display  of  high  histrionic  art,  and 
had  had  it  put  for  her  into  Italian  by  Signor  Del' 
Ongaro. 

The  tragedy  of  Fazio  was  followed  by  an  epic 
poem  in  twelve  books,  "  Samor,  Lord  of  the  Bright 
City."  This,  commenced  as  an  Eton  boy,  was 
almost  finished  while  he  was  an  undergraduate  at 
Oxford,  though  it  was  not  published  until  the  success 
of  Fazio  had  encouraged  him  to  hazard  another 
appearance  before  the  public.  Though  probably 
known  to  few — for,  lost  in  the  infinitely  accumulating 
crowd  of  books,  it  has  shared  the  fate  of  many  and 
no  doubt  more  deserving  performances — "Samor" 
is  of  some  interest  as  one  of  the  earliest  works  of 
its  author,  and  as  showing  the  varied  nature  of  the 
studies  with  which  his  school  days  were  occupied. 

I  had  at  Eton  the  fancy  for  searching  our  old 
chronicles  for  subjects  for  poetry ;  and  at  that 
buoyant  period  of  youth  we  are  sometimes  gifted 
with  a  happy  ignorance  of  the  magnitude  of  the 
work  we  undertake,  and  are  the  last  to  mistrust 
the  sufficiency  of  our  own  powers  for  our  noblest 
undertakings.  Youth,  once  possessed  with  a  notion 
of  its  poetic  calling,  is  not  disposed  to  take  counsel 
of  prudence  or  diffidence  :  if  it  did,  it  would  rarely 
prepare  the  mind  for  producing  anything  of  real 


38  "SAMOR"  [CHAP. 

value  in  riper  years ;  if  too  hastily  cooled  down, 
it  would  in  most  cases  be  chilled  to  barren 
inactivity. 

The  faults,  indeed,  with  which  "  Samor  "  was,  if 
severely,  yet  perhaps  justly,  charged — a  too  great 
exuberance  of  ornament,  and  artificial  diction 
(Southey  wrote  of  it  as  full  of  power  and  beauty, 
but  too  full  of  them) — were  faults  which  might  not 
unnaturally  be  expected  in  a  youthful  poem,  and 
they  were  partly  corrected  in  a  later  revised  edition. 
A  notice  of  "  Samor''  in  the  Quarterly  Review  by 
Coleridge  led  to  some  correspondence  between  the 
friends.  Although  Coleridge  had  concluded  his 
review  in  these  words,  "  There  is  scarcely  a  page 
of  the  book  which  does  not  testify  that  the  author 
is  a  poet  of  no  ordinary  powers ;  every  one  of 
them  exhibits  some  beautiful  expression,  some 
pathetic  turn,  some  original  thought,  or  some  strik- 
ing image,"  Milman  had  been  hurt  by  the  trenchant 
nature  of  some  of  the  criticisms,  especially  as  coming 
from  a  friend,  and  thought  he  had  not  been  quite 
fairly  treated ;  that  while  confessedly  all  the  weak 
parts  of  the  poem  had  been  analyzed,  the  critic  left 
off  when  he  came  to  the  higher  strain  ;  that  no  theory 
or  principle  had  been  laid  down  that  might  help 
him  to  correct  the  defects  that  were  pointed  out, 
or  by  which  he  might  regulate  his  future  operations. 
Once  having  given  vent  to  his  feelings,  the  subject 
was,  I  am  sure,  dismissed  from  my  father's  mind. 
But  the  thought  that  he  might  been  have  hard  or 
unjust  to  a  friend  seems  to  have  weighed  upon 


ii.]  LETTERS   FROM   J.   T.    COLERIDGE  39 

Coleridge's  sensitive  and  generous  nature.  After 
my  father's  death  Sir  John  Coleridge,  when  sending 
to  me  some  of  the  letters  which  he  had  preserved, 
wrote  (may  I  be  pardoned  the  quotation — the 
words  were,  under  the  circumstances,  singularly 
affecting) : — 

I  shall  enclose  with  this  [MS.  volumes  contain- 
ing poems  written  at  Eton]  a  few  letters  I  have 
found ;  one  I  am  sure  will  be  deeply  interesting  to 
you  all,  especially  to  your  mother.  You  will  see, 
perhaps,  that  I  have  cut  it  out  from  a  collection. 
I  own  I  part  with  it  with  regret,  but  I  cannot  even 
wish  to  withhold  it  from  that  which  you  are  making. 
I  might  hesitate  to  send  one  or  two  others — on  my 
own  account,  not  his  ;  but  it  would  be  foolish  in  me 
to  do  so.  It  is  not  the  only  regret  which  has  been 
occasioned  to  me  by  my  unlucky  criticism  ;  and  the 
regret,  I  am  happy  to  say,  is  always  tempered  by 
the  thought  of  the  perfect  good  temper  with  which 
he  forgave  me.  I  never  thought  of  him  for  many 
years  without  a  special  feeling  of  tenderness  on  that 
score  towards  him  and  condemnation  of  myself. 

Then,  in  answer  to  a  letter  in  which  I  had  no 
doubt  ventured  to  express  the  grateful  thanks  of  my 
father's  family  to  Sir  John  Coleridge  for  his  kind- 
ness in  parting  with  these  letters,  he  continues : — 

I  am  very  thankful  to  you  for  your  last  letter,  as 
regards  myself  and  my  unhappy  criticisms.  I  need 
hardly  say  to  you  that  I  intended  nothing  unkind  ; 
but  it  is  perhaps  due  to  myself  to  say  that  I  intended 
something  more ;  and,  extravagantly  enough,  some- 
thing of  this  kind.  I  entertained  a  very  high  opinion 
of  your  father's  poetical  powers,  and  of  his  destiny 


40  CRITICISM  OF   "SAMOR"  [CHAP. 

as  a  poet  if  he  pursued  the  right  course — right,  that 
is,  of  course,  according  to  my  notions.  He  and  I, 
however,  differed  widely  enough  and  in  several 
particulars.  We  had  had  many  a  stout  fight  in 
conversation  upon  these.  Now,  my  wild  hope  was 
that  all  he  had  done,  even  "  Samor "  included, 
might  be  but  the  precursor  to  greater  perform- 
ances ;  and  in  that  hope  I  wrote.  I  am  not  going 
to  trouble  you  with  the  controversy  over  again. 
Looking  back  at  fourscore  on  what  he  did  do  in 
other  ways  after  the  publication  of  "  Samor,"  I 
accept  thankfully  what  has  been  done ;  but  I  am 
not  satisfied  he  might  not  have  justified  my  hopes 
in  what  I  still  think  was  his  true  as  well  as  his 
first  line. 

The  letter  above  referred  to,  from  which  Sir 
John  Coleridge  parted  with  regret,  the  last  record 
of  a  friendship  which  had  lasted  for  full  sixty  years, 
may  here  find  an  appropriate  place,  though  not 
written  till  the  year  preceding  my  father's  death. 
It  is  surely  impossible  to  read  without  emotion  these 
friendly  and  affectionate  communications  between 
the  old  schoolfellows  whose  honoured  lives  were 
then  so  near  their  close.  Coleridge  had  written  to 
congratulate  my  father  on  the  appointment  of  his 
nephew,  Robert  Milman,  to  the  Bishopric  of  Calcutta, 
under  the  impression,  it  appears,  that  he  was  a  son 
of  the  Dean. 

DEANERY,  ST.   PAUL'S, 

January  2\st,  1867. 

MY  DEAR  COLERIDGE, — 

I  cannot  regret  the  misapprehension,  or 
rather  the  misinformation,  under  which  your  letter 
has  been  written,  as  it  has  called  forth  such  very 


IL]  BISHOPRIC   OF   CALCUTTA  41 

friendly  expressions  of  interest  in  me  and  mine.  It 
is  my  nephew,  and  not  my  son,  who  is  Bishop- 
designate  of  Calcutta — a  nephew,  as  son  of  a  very 
dear  brother,  whose  promotion  gives  me  very  great 
satisfaction  ;  and  of  course  the  pang  of  parting  at 
my  time  of  life  from  him  is  very  different  from  that 
of  taking  a  last  earthly  farewell  of  a  beloved  son. 
My  nephew  is,  I  may  say,  a  man  of  great  zeal  and 
activity ;  and  though  of  moderate  High  Church 
opinions,  with  a  great  fund  of  good  sense — I  suspect 
one  of  the  best  qualifications  for  his  arduous  office. 
Wherever  he  has  been,  he  has  been  very  popular  in 
the  best  sense ;  and  he  has  the  talent  of  making 
others  act  with  him.  He  is  unmarried ;  but  his 
sister,  who  latterly  has  lived  with  him  and  shared 
all  his  toils,  accompanies  him.  She  was  my  god- 
daughter, and  one  for  whom — having,  alas !  no 
daughter  left,  and  no  daughter-in-law  (as  yet) — I  have 
the  greatest  affection.  I  shall  feel  her  loss  deeply. 
All  this  I  write  because  I  know  how  keenly  alive 
you  are  to  the  importance  of  filling  with  a  fit  person 
the  very  difficult  post  of  Bishop  of  Calcutta.  But  I 
must  revert  to  more  personal  matters,  and  assure 
you  how  highly  I  appreciate  your  warm  interest  in 
my  family  affairs  and  in  myself.  This  renewal  of 
old  friendships,  which  began  so  many  years  ago — I 
should  not  say  renewal,  for  I  trust  that  our  friend- 
ship and  mutual  regard  have  never  ceased,  however 
divergent  our  paths  in  life,  perhaps  our  opinions  on 
many  important  subjects — this  reawakening  of  old 
associations  is  to  me  in  the  highest  degree  affecting. 
In  the  interval  so  many  have  dropped  off,  so  few 
remain,  that  I  cannot  but  feel  deeply  grateful  for 
your  kind,  and  I  am  confident  most  sincere,  language. 
At  our  age  there  are  few  with  whom  our  intimacy 
began  at  least  sixty  years  ago.  In  those  sixty 
years  you  have  gained  all  that  is  worth  having  in 
life — high  professional  position,  universal  respect, 


42  JUBILEE  BONFIRES  [CHAP. 

very  many  domestic  blessings,  the  answer  of  a  good 
conscience,  and  I  trust,  though  with  some  infirmities, 
a  quiet  decline  down  the  last  slope  of  life.  For 
myself  I  may  say  that  I  have  obtained  much  of 
what  I  should  most  have  coveted  in  early  life — a 
post  in  the  Church  best  suited  to  my  habits  and 
tastes.  I  now  find  myself  in  a  happy  home,  at 
nearly  seventy-six,  with  faculties  unclouded,  at  least 
as  far  as  I  am  concerned  ;  with  full  enjoyment  of 
my  books,  as  much  so  as  when  I  was  at  Eton  ; 
with  society  which,  if  I  enjoy  more  moderately 
than  of  old,  I  can  still  delight  in  ;  with  most  affec- 
tionate sons  and  an  inappreciable  wife.  What  can 
man  wish  more.  How  can  he  be  sufficiently 
thankful  for  such  a  lot  ?  .  .  . 

Ever  most  truly  yours, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 


I  have  spoken  of  "  Samor  "  as  forgotten  ;  but  this 
is  perhaps  too  broad  a  statement ;  for  I  have  been 
informed  that,  a  discussion  having  recently  arisen 
upon  the  various  accounts  of  the  lighting  of  the 
Jubilee  bonfires  over  Great  Britain,  the  description 
of  the  firing  of  the  beacons  from  one  end  of  the 
western  part  of  the  island  to  the  other,  from 
Cornwall  to  Cumberland,  given  in  the  loth  Book 
of  "  Samor,"  was  referred  to  by  a  very  competent 
judge  as  more  vividly  reproducing  the  impression 
intended  to  be  conveyed  than  any  other  with  which 
he  was  acquainted.  In  legendary  history  Samor,  a 
British  chief,  more  commonly  known  as  Edol  or 
Eldol,  "  is  Lord  "— Dugdale,  in  his  "  Baronage," 
calls  him  Earl — of  "Caer  Gloew,  the  Bright  City,  the 
Saxon  Gloucester."  A  gathering  of  British  chiefs 


IL]  "SAMOR"   QUOTED  43 

has  assembled  at  Mount  St.  Michael,  in  Cornwall, 
which  has  been  joined  by  Hoel,  King  of  Armorica 
(Bretagne),  with  his  fleet.  Emrys  is  hailed  as 
King  of  Britain,  and  the  fiery  signal  is  lighted  to 
summon  all  the  chiefs  to  united  resistance  against 
the  Saxon  invader  : — 

"Air,  earth,  and  waters,  ye  have  play'd  your  part; 

There's  yet  another  element,"  cried  aloud 

Samor,  and  in  the  pyre  he  cast  a  brand. 

A  moment,  and  uprush'd  the  giant  fire, 

Piercing  the  dim  heavens  with  its  blazing  brow, 

And  on  the  still  air  shaking  its  red  locks. 

There  by  its  side  the  vassals  and  their  King, 

Motionless,  with  their  shadows  huge  and  dun, 

Show'd  like  destroying  angels,  round  enwrapp'd 

In  their  careering  pomp  of  flame  :   far  flash' d 

The  yellow  midnight  day  o'er  shore  and  sea : 

The  waves  now  ruddy  heaved,  now  darkly  plung'd; 

Upon  the  rocks,  within  the  wavering  light, 

Strong-featured  faces  fierce,  and  hard-lined  forms 

Broke  out  and  disappear' d :   the  anchor' d  fleet 

Were  laving  their  brown  sides  in  rainbow  spray. 

No  sound  was  heard,  but  the  devouring  flame, 

And  the  thick  plashing  waters.     "  Keep  your  faith," 

Cried  Samor,  "  ye  eternal  hills,  and  ye 

Heaven-neighbouring  mountains!"     Eastward  far  anon 

Another  fire  rose  furious  up :   behind 

Another  and  another:   all  the  hills, 

Each  beyond  each,  held  up  its  crest  of  flame. 

Along  the  heavens  the  bright  and  crimson  hue, 

Widening  and  deepening,  travels  on :   the  range 

O'erleaps  black  Tamar,  by  whose  ebon  tide 

Cornwall  is  bounded ;   and  on  Heytor  rock, 

Above  the  stony,  moorish  source  of  Dart, 

It  waves  a  sanguine  standard :   Haldon  burns, 

And  the  red  City  *  glows  a  deeper  hue. 

And  all  the  southern  rocks,  the  moorland  downs, 

In  those  portentous  characters  of  flame 

Discourse,  and  bear  the  glaring  legend  on  : 

Even  to  the  graves  on  Ambri  plain,  where  woke 

That  pallid  woman,  and  rejoiced  and  deem'd 

'Twas  sent  to  guide  her  to  the  tomb  she  sought. 

*  Caer-ruth,  Exeter. 


44  FIRING   OF  THE  BEACONS  [CHAP. 

Fast  flash  they  up,  those  altars  of  revenge, 

As  though  the  snake-hair' d  Sister  torch-bearers, 

Th'  Eumenides,  from  the  Tartarean  depths, 

Were  leaping  on  from  hill  to  hill,  on  each 

Leaving  the  tracks  of  their  flame-dropping  feet. 

Or  as  the  souls  of  the  dead  fathers,  wrapt 

In  bright  meteorous  grave-clothes,  had  arisen, 

And  each  sat  crowning  his  accustom'd  hill, 

Radiant  and  mute  ;    or  the  devoted  isle 

Had  wrought  down  by  her  bold  and  frequent  guilt 

Th'  Almighty's  lightning-shafts,  now  numberless 

Forth-raining  from  the  lurid  reeking  clouds, 

And  smiting  all  the  heights.     On  spreads  the  train. 

Northward  it  breaks  upon  the  Quantock  ridge  ; 

It  reddens  on  the  Mendip  forests  dark; 

It  looks  into  the  cavern' d  Cheddar  cliffs : 

The  boatman  on  the  Severn  mouth  awakes 

And  sees  the  waters  rippling  round  his  keel 

In  spots  and  streaks  of  purple  light,  each  shore 

Ablaze  with  all  its  answering  hills  :  the  streams 

Run  glittering  down  Plinlimmon's  side,  though  thick 

And  moonless  the  wan  night ;    and  Idris  stands 

Like  Stromboli  or  ^Etna,  where  'twas  feign'd 

Ever  at  their  flashing  furnace  wrought  the  Sons 

Of  Vulcan,  forging  with  eternal  toil 

Jove's  never-idle  thunder-bolts.     And  thou, 

Snowdon,  the  king  of  mountains,  art  not  dark 

Amid  thy  vassal  brethren  gleaming  bright. 

Is  it  to  welcome  thy  returning  Seer, 

That  thus  above  thy  clouds,  above  thy  snows, 

Thou  wear'st  that  wreathed  diadem  of  fire, 

As  to  outshine  the  pale  and  winking  stars  ? 

O'er  Menai's  waters  blue  the  gleaming  spreads : 

The  Bard  in  Mona's  secret  grove  beholds 

A  glitter  on  his  harp-strings,  and  looks  out 

Upon  the  kindling  cliffs  of  Penmanmawr. 

Is  it  a  pile  of  martyrdom  above 

Clwyd's  green  vale  ?     Beside  the  embers  bright 

Stands  holy  Germain,  as  a  saint  new  come 

From  the  pure  mansions  of  beatitude, 

The  centre  of  a  glory  that  spreads  round 

Its  film  of  thin  pellucid  gold.     Nor  there 

Pauses  the  restless  messenger ;  still  on 

Vaults  it  from  rock  to  rock,  from  peak  to  peak. 

Far  seen  it  shimmer' d  on  Caer  Ebranc  Wall, 

And  Malwyn  blew  a  bugle-blast  for  joy. 


IL]  LETTER   FROM   PARIS,   1815  45 

The  sun  uprising  sees  the  dusk  night  fled 

Already  from  tall  Pendle  and  the  height 

Of  Ingleborough ;  sees  Helvellyn  cast 

A  meteor  splendour  on  the  mountain  lakes. 

Like  mirrors  of  the  liquid  molten  brass, 

The  brightest  and  the  broadest  and  the  last, 

There  flakes  the  beacon  glare;  and  in  the  midst, 

Dashing  the  ruddy  sparkles  to  and  fro 

With  the  black  remnant  of  a  pine-tree  stem, 

Stands,  arm'd  from  head  to  foot,  Prince  Vortimer. 

These  references  to  Fazio  and  "Samor"  have 
carried  us  on  to  somewhat  later  days ;  but  before 
leaving  this  chapter  of  early  reminiscences,  a  visit 
to  Paris,  then  occupied  by  the  "  Allies,"  may  be 
mentioned.  When  Paris  was  thrown  open  by  this 
occupation,  there  was  an  immediate  influx  of  visitors 
eager  to  satisfy  a  pent-up  curiosity.  My  father, 
no  doubt  as  eager  as  any,  describes  his  hurried 
visit  in  two  letters  to  his  sister,  to  which  the 
occasion  may  attach  some  interest : — 

HOTEL  DE  VIRGINIE,  RUE  ST.  HONORE, 
Tuesday,  August  i<\th,  1815. 

MY  DEAR  EMILY, — 

Here  I  am,  with  my  head  in  a  whirl,  my 
feet  aching,  and  my  whole  self  in  as  complete  a  state 
of  fatigue  as  if  I  had  been  taking  a  walk  to  the 
moon.  This  Paris  certainly,  in  its  present  state,  is 
the  most  extraordinary  place,  and  the  most  noisy,  I 
ever  saw  ;  and  the  Rue  St.  Honore  seems  a  channel 
made  for  all  the  noises  to  pass  to  all  the  other  parts 
of  the  city — shoals  of  passengers  afoot,  pushing  on, 
or  else  fixing  themselves  like  bills  to  the  walls,  for 
fear  of  being  crushed  by  coaches,  cabriolets,  fiacres, 
and  all  the  four-wheeled  and  two-wheeled  vehicles 
tilting  along  at  a  round  trot,  and  the  coachmen 
hallooing,  ((  Gare  !  gare  !  "  I  had  a  most  prosperous 


46  "IPHIG&NIE  EN   TAURIDE"  [CHAP. 

journey  ;  found  a  vessel  ready  to  sail,  got  on  board 
at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  was  in  Dieppe 
before  eight  the   next  morning  ;  but   the  ship  not 
being  able  to  come  into  the  harbour,  I  could  not  get 
my  luggage  till  two,  which  gave  me  plenty  of  time 
to  reconnoitre  the  particularly  and  notoriously  thick 
ankles  of  the   Dieppese    ladies.     One   of  my  com- 
panions in  the  vessel  was  Mary  Anne  Clarke,*  l(  my 
darling,"  in  the  last  stage  apparently  of  consumption, 
without  any  remains  of  beauty,  of  which,  I  believe, 
she  never  had  a  great  share,  but  excessively  amusing. 
I  did  not  find  out  who  she  was  till  just  before  we 
parted  company.     Mr.  William  Smith,  of  Norwich, 
and  two  of  his  sons  were  also  there  ;  but  I  did  not  find 
out  who  he  was,  excepting  that  he  was  a  Mr.  Smith, 
till  after  we  had  parted.     I  arrived  in  Paris  in  time 
to  see  Talma,  Damas,  and  Mademoiselle  George  in 
Iphigtnie  en  Tauride.     Talma  was  glorious  ;  Damas 
very  good ;  the  lady  sometimes  very  good,  some- 
times screamy.      The  play  is  rather  a  good   one, 
because  the  author  had  not  genius  enough  to  spoil 
Euripides,  but  imitated  him  very  quietly,  only  alter- 
ing a  few    incidents,  and,    by-the-bye,  leaving  out 
some  of  the  finest  touches.     This  morning,  after  a 
visit  to  the  Louvre,  I  left  all  my  letters,  having  been 
lucky  enough  to  call  on  Mr.  Frederick  North,  who 
gave   me   recommendations   to    Langlet,   the  great 
Orientalist,  librarian    in    the   Bibliotheque  du  Roi  ; 
Monsieur  Chevalier,  ditto  at  the  Pantheon  ;  Monsieur 
Nicolopoulo,  a  Greek,  ditto  at  the  Institut.     What 
crop  they  will  produce  I  know  not.     I  met  Hawkins 
where    I    dined   on   my  arrival  ;    saw    Master   this 
morning ;  and  called  on  both  the  Plantas,  but  did  not 
find  them. 

As  for  the  state  of  affairs,  I  can  know  nothing  ; 
nor  do  I  think  that  the  opinion  of  any  individual 

*  For  an   account  of  Mary  Anne  Clarke,   see   "Dictionary  of 
National  Biography,"  sub  nom. 


IL]  THE   LOUVRE  47 

who  has  not  very  great  advantages  is  of  the 
slightest  importance.  As  far  as  I  can  see  and  hear, 
they  are  in  a  perfect  state  of  apathy.  The  Dukes 
of  Angouleme  and  Berri  went  in  state  to  N  otre  Dame 
to-day,  but  there  was  no  appearance  of  applause  or 
dislike ;  the  people,  who  were  in  great  numbers, 
seemed  to  look  at  them  for  the  sake  of  looking  at 
something.  It  certainly,  however,  did  not  appear  a 
sullen,  but  a  totally  careless  silence.  Labddoyere's 
trial  is  closed,  and  he  is  condemned ;  whether  they 
will  shoot  him  I  know  not.  Ney  is  taken,  and  the 
jeu  de  mots  is,  "  Bonaparte  a  perdu  son  NeJ."  It 
sounds  very  well,  but,  as  you  see,  does  not  write. 
At  Dieppe  and  Rouen  they  would  not  believe  that 
we  had  got  Boney ;  at  Rouen  they  declared  roundly 
that  both  he  and  Madame  Bertrand  were  still  at  Paris. 

This  particular  caution  I  must  give  you  :  that  this 
is  by  far  the  worst  place  for  writing  I  ever  knew  ; 
the  day  is  so  completely  filled,  and  probably  will  be, 
that  you  must  excuse  the  scarcity  of  my  epistles. 

Of  the  Louvre  I  say  nothing  yet,  excepting  that 
with  my  admiration  of  the  Apollo  there  is  a  great 
mixture  of  anger  on  account  of  the  wretched  manner 
it  is  placed.  You  can  neither  go  round  it,  see  the 
hinder  part  of  it,  or  get  near  it. 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

H.  H.  M. 


H6TEL  DE  VlRGINIE,    RUE   ST.    HONORE, 

August  2.%th. 

MY  DEAR  EMILY, — 

I  pass  my  time  here  very  pleasantly,  and 
shall  do  so,  I  expect,  as  long  as  the  sights  last.  I 
have  passed  every  day,  except  one,  between  two  and 
three  hours  in  the  Louvre,  and  have  not  near 
finished  my  studies  yet.  The  Apollo,  the  Laocoon, 
the  two  Gladiators,  and  innumerable  other  statues 
it  is  impossible  to  survey  completely  without  passing 


48  STANCE  OF  THE   INSTITUT  [CHAP. 

a  long  time  before  each  ;  and    in   the   gallery  the 
Raphaels,  the  Rubens,  are  new  again  at  every  fresh 
point  of  view.     Then  come  Correggios,  Andrea  del 
Sartos,    Leonardo   da    Vincis,    and    Vandykes,    all 
exquisite  in  their  way.     They  in  general  are  very 
poor  in  landscapes,  their  Claudes  are  few  and  by  no 
means  first  rate,  only  three  moderate  G.   Poussins, 
some  lovely  Berghems,  and  two  very  fine  Rembrandt 
landscapes   which    I     caught    in    the    very    act   of 
removal.     If  I  were  to  begin  details  upon  separate 
pictures,  I  should  never  have  done.     I  find  acquaint- 
ances without  end  every  day.     Old  Mr.  Planta  and  I 
meet  among  the  savans.    Joseph  I  have  not  yet  seen ; 
he  is  entirely  occupied  with  affairs  of  State.     I  went 
to  a  stance  of  the  Institut  the  other  day,  and  was. 
in  great  peril  of  a  second  yesterday,  but  escaped 
miraculously.     The  first  day,  after  a  very  simple  and 
good  memoir  of  Visconti's  on  a  Greek  inscription 
of  Lord  Elgin's,  advanced  a  dark  man  with  a  pair 
of  spectacles  astride  a  large  nose,  and  began  on  the 
philosophy  of  Raymond  Lully,  which  he  continued 
for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  and  at  last  wound  up 
with  an  enfin,  "  that  the  philosophy  of  Lully  did  not 
deserve   to   be   recovered   from    the   oblivion    into 
which  it  has  so  justly  fallen."     The  letters  which 
have  established  me  among  the  savans  were  given 
me  by  Mr.  Frederick  North.     Le  Chevalier  I  find 
a  delightful  old  man,  perfectly  of  an  English  opinion 
with  regard  to  the  depravity  and  despicableness  of 
his  country.     He  calls  Bonaparte  ce  coquin  grand 
administrates,  laughs  at   the   savans,   and  abuses 
the  Edinburgh   Reviewers.      He  gave  me  a  most 
amusing    account    of    his    meeting,    at   dinner    in 
London,  Hunt,  the  editor  of  the  Examiner.     I  went 
to  a  learned  dejeuner  on  Sunday  at  Langlet's,  the 
great  Orientalist,  who  unhappily  is  the  only  French- 
man whom  I  cannot  understand  ;  he  holds  his  head 
down,  being  a  little  man,  and  spills  his  words  oa 


ii.]   "ANDROMAQUE"— THE  THEATRE  FRAN£AIS  49 

the  ground  in  such  a  manner  that  it  might  be 
Sanscrit  for  aught  I  can  distinguish  to  the  contrary. 
The  great  man,  or  rather  lion,  of  the  party  was  the 
Count  Volney  who  was  in  Egypt — a  worthy  old 
gentleman  who  intends  to  prove  to  us  that  the 
writings  of  Moses  ought  to  be  dated  two  or  three 
thousand  years  later.  The  savans  seemed  to  think 
him  something  very  fine  ;  for  my  part,  though  it 
is  not  fair  to  judge  of  a  man  by  one  morning,  I 
thought  him  a  prosing  old  system-monger.  I  liked 
Volknaer,  their  great  geographer,  the  best  of  those  I 
conversed  with.  I  have  also  various  Greek  acquaint- 
ances, beginning  with  Arsenics,  the  Archimandrite 
of  Sparta,  who  saluted  me  to-day  with  the  holy  kiss, 
and  ending  with  Monsieur  Nicolopoulo,  who  writes 
Greek  poetry. 

I  am  just  returned  from  the  Theatre  Fran^ais, 
where  I  saw  Andromaque.  The  three  first  acts 
were  heavy  and  wearisome.  I  could  only  think  of 
what  Orestes  usually  appears  to  me  in  the  tragedies 
with  which  I  am  familiar :  either  labouring  with  the 
dreadful  Heaven-ordained  task  of  killing  his  mother, 
or  pursued  by  her  avenging  furies ;  instead  of  which 
I  had  him  before  me  whining  out  rhymes  of  flamme 
and  dme,  talking  about  invincibles  attraits,  and  all 
the  mawkish  and  sickly  fafon  de  parler  of  French 
love-making, — the  savage  barbarian  Pyrrhus  in 
the  same  style  to  a  woman  who  in  point  of  fact 
was  as  much  his  property  as  his  horse.  In 
the  fourth  and  fifth  acts,  however,  I  forgot  who 
they  all  were,  and  was  in  the  highest  degree 
delighted  with  the  ravings  of  Madame  Duchesnois 
and  some  noble  touches  of  Talma.  Talma's 
countenance  is  round  and  by  no  means  expressive  ; 
his  voice  full  and  strong  to  the  finest  tone  ;  his  action 
free ;  and  but  for  the  inherent  defects  of  French 
versification,  which  often  throws  the  cadence  on 
the  wrong  word,  and  to  avoid  the  monotony  of  the 


50  MADEMOISELLE   MARS  [CHAP. 

rhymes  forces  them  all  into  a  trick  of  sliding  the 
first  words  of  the  following  couplet  into  the  pre- 
ceding one,  when  the  sense  demands  a  pause  at 
the  close  of  the  first  couplet — but  for  these  disad- 
vantages his  delivery  would  be  excellent.  Madame 
Duchesnois  storms  admirably ;  it  is  not  rant,  but 
a  long-sustained  effort  of  raving,  which  she  con- 
trives to  break  with  a  hurrying  delivery  of  a  few 
lines,  and  thus  passes  through  the  long  jingling 
speeches  with  great  effect.  Their  comedy  is 
admirable.  I  saw  Tartuffe  the  other  night. 
Mademoiselle  Mars  surpasses  all  our  comedians 
far  and  far ;  her  laughing  eye  and  graceful  easiness 
of  manner  are  perfect.  The  men  were  also  ex- 
cellent, but  did  not  surpass  Dowton's  Dr.  Cantwell. 

I  am  greatly  tempted  by  books.  The  good 
French  works  are  as  cheap  as  possible.  I  bought 
a  complete  Delia  Valle  in  four  volumes,  in  decent 
condition,  for  five  francs. 

My  love  to  all,  and  believe  me 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

H.  H.  M. 

Are  the  "  Me*moires  de  la  Re*gence  du  Due 
d'Orlelans,"  the  posthumous  work  of  Marmontel, 
which  my  mother  wants  to  complete  her  set  ? 


in.]  ENTERS   INTO   HOLY  ORDERS  51 


CHAPTER    III. 

Enters  into  Holy  Orders — First  Curacy — Nominated  to  the  Vicarage 
of  St.  Mary's,  Reading — Poetical  Works—  Fall  of  Jerusalem 
— Martyr  of  Antioch — Belshazzar — Professorship  of  Poetry 
at  Oxford — Tour  in  Italy — Marriage. 

OUR  interest  in  the  success  of  Fazio,  the  only 
play  that  was  written  by  my  father  for  the 
stage,  and  the  visit  to  Paris,  have  carried  us  on  a  few 
years,  and  we  must  now  go  back  to  Oxford,  where 
he  had  taken  his  degree  in  1813,  and  had  obtained 
his  First  Class,  after,  I  believe,  an  examination  of 
exceptional  brilliance.  It  is  not  quite  clear  for  how 
long  afterwards  he  continued  in  residence ;  *  but  it 
cannot  have  been  for  many  terms,  as  in  1816  he 
entered  into  Holy  Orders,  being  ordained  deacon 
by  Archbishop  Howley,  then  Bishop  of  London, 
and  priest  in  the  same  year  by  Dr.  Legge,  Bishop 
of  Oxford.  After  serving  some  months  in  the 

*  Sir  Henry  Longley  has  favoured  me  with  the  particulars  of  a 
club  of  young  Masters  of  Arts  at  Oxford  who  about  this  time  dined 
monthly  during  term  in  rotation  at  each  other's  rooms.  The  list  of 
members  is  remarkable,  especially  seeing  in  what  different  directions 
they  ultimately  tended,  and  including  as  it  does  such  names  as 
Thomas  Arnold,  Oriel ;  Augustus  W.  Hare,  New ;  Edward  Hawkins 
(Provost  of  Oriel);  John  Keble,  Oriel;  Charles  T.  Longley,  Ch.  Ch. 
(Archbishop  of  Canterbury)  ;  Henry  Hart  Milman,  B.N.C.  (Dean  of 
St.  Paul's) ;  Thomas  Vowler  Short,  Ch.  Ch.  (Bishop  of  St.  Asaph) ; 
Charles  A.  Ogilvie,  Balliol. 


52  VICAR  OF  ST.   MARY'S,   READING         [CHAP. 

curacy  of  Baling,  he  was  nominated  in  1817  by 
the  Chancellor,  Lord  Eldon,  to  the  vicarage  of 
St.  Mary's,  Reading.  This  appointment,  though 
formally  made  by  the  Chancellor,  was,  there  can 
be  no  doubt,  obtained  by  the  direct  intervention  of 
Queen  Charlotte,  who  was  desirous  of  showing  her 
sense  of  the  obligation  which  she  was  under,  as  has 
been  already  indicated,  to  her  physician,  Sir  Francis 
Milman.  A  curious  letter  from  Lord  Stowell,  who 
resided  at  Early  Court,  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Reading,  explains  the  circumstances  under  which 
ihe  appointment  was  made. 

Some  reflections  having — it  was  many  years  after- 
wards— been  made  upon  Mr.  Milman,  for  acting, 
as  was  suggested,  in  a  manner  not  quite  suitable 
to  a  person  in  occupation  of  a  Chancellor's  living, 
Lord  Stowell  writes  a  very  handsome  letter,  which 
he  desired  should,  if  Mr.  Milman  wished  it,  be 
delivered  to  him,  assuring  his  correspondent  that 
no  such  thought  had  ever  been  harboured  in  his 
mind ;  and  then,  after  explaining  the  circumstances 
under  which  the  presentation  had  been  made,  he 
concludes : — 

I  have  always  considered  Mr.  Milman  as  the 
presentee  of  the  Queen,  and  have  never  looked  to 
him  as  a  person  who  was  at  all  bound  to  my  brother 
or  myself  in  any  debt  of  gratitude  for  that  living,  for 
which  he  should  be  in  the  slightest  degree  bound  to 
vote  upon  any  occasion  otherwise  than  as  his  own 
private  judgment  might  dictate,  and  I  beg  that  this 
may  be  communicated  to  him. 

My  father  was  not  the  man  to  vote  under  any 


in.]  LORD   STOWELL  53 

circumstances  otherwise  than  his  judgment  directed  ; 
but  Lord  Stowell's  letter  is  written  in  a  generous 
spirit,  all  the  more  considering  that  his  brother,  the 
Chancellor,  had  promised  him  that  he  should  have 
the  nomination  in  his  own  hands.  Lord  Stowell 
and  the  vicar  of  St.  Mary's,  it  may  be  added,  were 
always  on  the  most  friendly  terms,  and  from  the 
beginning  Lord  Stowell  admitted  that  the  nomi- 
nation was  a  highly  proper  one.  And  if  my  father 
was  indebted  for  this  his  first  piece  of  preferment 
to  Court  favour,  it  was  certainly  the  last  and  only 
advancement  that  could  in  any  way  be  attributed 
to  such  influence.  For  the  reputation  which  he 
soon  earned  for  himself  in  the  county  town  in 
which  his  living  was  situated,  as  a  clergyman  re- 
markable for  the  breadth  and  liberality  of  his 
religious  views,  for  moderation,  for  toleration,  was 
little  calculated  to  commend  him  to  the  High  Tory 
party,  which  was  then  predominant  in  the  Church  of 
England.  Moreover,  when  to  this  general  feeling  of 
distrust  was  added  the  more  particular  indignation 
which  was  roused  in  pious  minds  of  the  straiter 
sect  by  the  publication  of  the  "  History  of  the  Jews," 
it  seemed  as  if  this  prophecy  of  a  writer  in  the 
Edinburgh  Review  (T.  Moore)  would  be  fulfilled  : 
"  Woe  unto  the  young  divine  who,  like  the  accom- 
plished author  of  the  *  History  of  the  Jews,'  dares 
to  reason,  however  unpretendingly  and  sensibly, 
upon  matters  of  religious  concernment !  On  him 
will  the  theological  reviews,  monthly  and  quarterly, 
pour  the  vials  of  their  wrath — on  him  the  golden 


54  READING  IN    1817  [CHAP. 

paths  of  preferment  will,  as  sure  as  he  lives, 
be  shut."  For  eighteen  years  accordingly,  from 
1817  to  1835,  my  father  remained  vicar  of  St. 
Mary's — years  full  of  activity,  intellectual  progress, 
diversified  pursuits. 

Reading  in  the  early  years  of  the  century  was  a 
very  different  place  from  what  it  has  since  become 
as  a  centre  of  railway  traffic  and  an  emporium  of 
biscuit-manufacturers  and  seed-growers.  It  was  in 
1817  a  lively,  busy  county  town,  of  from  eight  to 
nine  thousand  inhabitants,  with  assize  court,  gaol, 
and  ruins  of  the  once  famous  abbey.  There  was 
also  a  grammar  school  of  reputation,  then  and  for 
some  years  afterwards,  under  the  rule  of  Dr.  Valpy, 
whose  "  Delectus "  was  only  too  well  known  to 
several  generations  of  schoolboys.  Situated  on  the 
Kennet  just  above  its  junction  with  the  Thames,  be- 
tween which  and  Reading  spread  rich  open  meadows, 
a  beautiful  view  extended  on  either  side  from  Maple- 
durham  to  Sonning.  The  road  to  Caversham  on 
the  Oxfordshire  bank  crossed  by  a  picturesque  old 
bridge  of  several  arches,  which  has  since  been  re- 
placed by  a  not  picturesque  iron  contrivance.  Then 
and  for  long  afterwards — in  fact,  until  one  of  the 
latest  Reform  Bills — Reading  returned  two  members 
to  Parliament ;  and  the  writer  of  these  lines  can  just 
remember  being  taken  as  a  very  little  boy  on  a  bitter 
frosty  day  to  see  the  candidates  chaired  after  an 
election,  and  to  have  been  much  impressed  by  the 
wavering  motion  of  the  bearers,  and  indeed  of  the 
whole  crowd,  on  the  slippery  roads,  which  made 


in.]  MR.   JUSTICE   TALFOURD  55 

the  whole  procession  look  like  a  wild  Bacchanalian 
rout,  previous  libations  having  no  doubt  added  to 
the  general  unsteadiness. 

This  must,  I  think,  have  been  at  the  General 
Election  in  January,  1835,  on  which  occasion  Serjeant 
Talfourd — afterwards  Mr.  Justice  Talfourd — and 
Charles  Russell  were  returned,  Mr.  Olivera  being 
the  unsuccessful  candidate.  A  note  from  Serjeant 
Talfourd  solicits  my  father's  vote  : — 

READING,  January  *jth,  1835. 

DEAR  SIR, — 

If  consistently  with  your  own  view  you  can 
in  the  present  state  of  the  poll  honour  me  with  a 
vote,  I  shall  feel  the  obligation  deeply.  At  all 
events,  I  trust  you  will  pardon  a  request  which  is 
prompted  by  the  natural  desire  of  recording  in  my 
favour  a  name  so  distinguished  in  our  literature, 
and  shedding  so  much  lustre  on  my  native  town. 
I  am,  dear  sir, 

Most  respectfully  yours, 

T.  N.  TALFOURD. 

One  other  digressive  reminiscence.  The  windows 
of  the  nursery  at  the  vicarage  overlooked  the  church 
and  churchyard,  and  I  remember  that  our  old  nurse 
(not  old  then)  used  to  sit  hour  after  hour  at  night 
watching  the  grave  of  a  loved  sister,  in  fear  lest  it 
should  be  rifled,  for  the  names  of  "  Burke  and 
Hare "  had  caused  a  sort  of  panic  of  terror, 
especially  among  the  class  to  which  she  belonged. 

The  announcement  of  my  father's  appointment 
to  the  vicarage  of  St.  Mary  is  said  to  have 
been  received  with  some  misgiving  by  certain 


56  MISS   MITFORD  [CHAP. 

of  his  future  parishioners,  whose  equanimity  was 
disturbed  at  the  idea  of  submitting  themselves  to 
the  spiritual  guidance  of  a  minister  who  had  written 
a  play — a  play  that  had,  moreover,  been  actually  put 
upon  the  stage.  This  distrust,  revived  after  some 
years  in  an  acuter  form  on  the  publication  of  the 
"  History  of  the  Jews,"  was  perhaps  never  alto- 
gether removed,  but  it  was  tempered  by  the  respect 
and  admiration  that  every  one  felt  for  their  vicar's 
talents  and  rising  reputation.  His  parishioners 
were  proud  of  him,  and  he  won  a  way  to  their 
hearts  by  the  zealous  discharge  of  his  parochial 
duties,  and  by  his  consistent  moderation  and 
toleration. 

Have  you  read  Mr.  Milman's  new  poem  ? 
[Miss  Mitford  enquires  of  her  father].  We  have 
Mr.  Milman  himself  in  Reading :  he  has  gotten 
one  of  the  livings  there,  and  reads  and  preaches 
enchantingly. 

And  speaking  of  his  preaching  on  another  occasion 
more  particularly,  she  says  : — 

Mr.  Milman  made  a  great  display  last  Wednesday 
at  the  Bishop's  visitation,  preaching  a  sermon  which 
I  was  so  unlucky  as  not  to  hear,  but  which  every- 
body speaks  of  as  a  most  splendid  piece  of  oratory — 
on  the  philosophy  of  preaching.  I  hope  he'll  print  it. 

It  was  in  the  earlier  years  of  his  residence  at 
Reading  that  his  brilliant  poetical  career  may,  too, 
be  said  to  have  culminated  by  the  publication  of 
his  three  religious  dramas,  the  Fall  of  Jerusalem 


HI.]  "THE   FALL   OF  JERUSALEM"  57 

(1820),  the  Martyr  of  Antioch,  and  Belshazzar 
(1822),  which  were  followed  somewhat  later  by 
an  historical  tragedy,  Anne  Boleyn,  with  which 
this  phase  of  his  work  was  concluded. 

It  may  be  difficult  for  the  present  generation  to 
realize  the  general  favour  with  which  these  dramas, 
at  least  the  first  two  of  them,  were  received ;  but 
this  is  no  reason  for  depreciating  the  judgment  of 
our  fathers.  And  what  this  judgment  was  may  be 
not  unfairly  estimated  by  the  opinions  of  two  very 
competent  critics,  of  very  different  character  and 
school  of  thought :  Reginald  Heber,  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Calcutta  ;  and  Christopher  North  (Pro- 
fessor Wilson),  who  has  been  already  quoted  on 
the  subject  of  prize  poems. 

Murray  has  sent  me  [writes  Heber]  a  copy  of  a 
glorious  poem  by  Milman  on  the  Fall  of  Jerusalem, 
which  he  wishes  me  to  review  immediately.  I  have 
looked  at  some  parts,  and  been  delighted  with  it. 

And  thus  the  Professor  : — 

Each  successive  poem  of  that  beautiful  writer  was 
highly — not  too  highly — praised  in  the  Quarterly 
Review,  to  which  he  had  been  one  of  the  most 
powerful  contributors.  On  every  account  he  de- 
serves such  eulogies. 

Doubtless  *    to   this   generation   the  memory  of 

*•  To  obviate  any  misconception,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  this 
and  a  few  other  sentences  are  taken  from  a  brief  memoir  of  Dean 
Milman  by  the  writer  of  these  lines,  hurriedly  prepared  at  the  request 
of  a  friend  for  insertion  in  a  then  (1869)  new  publication,  "The 
Register;  or,  Magazine  of  Biography." 


58  "THE   MARTYR   OF   ANTIOCH"  [CHAP. 

Milman  as  a  poet  ("  poet-priest  Milman,"  as  he  is 
called  by  Lord  Byron)  has  in  large  measure  become 
obscured  by  distance,  and  to  the  majority  of  readers 
of  poetry  he  may  be  chiefly  known  as  the  writer 
of  those  beautiful  hymns  for  the  Church  service 
which  he  contributed  to  Bishop  Heber's  collection  : 
among  others,  the  hymns  for  Palm  Sunday,  "  Ride 
on !  ride  on  in  majesty ! "  "  When  our  heads  are 
bowed  with  woe,"  and  that  exquisitely  pathetic 
funeral  hymn  from  the  Martyr  of  Antioch,  "  Brother, 
thou  art  gone  before  us."  On  the  subject  of  these 
hymns,  under  date  of  May  nth,  1821,  Heber 
writes  : — 

I  rejoice  to  hear  so  good  an  account  of  the  pro- 
gress which  your  Saint  [alluding  to  the  Martyr  of 
Antiocti\  is  making  towards  her  crown,  and  feel 
really  grateful  for  the  kindness  which  enables  you, 
while  so  occupied,  to  recollect  my  hymn-book.  I 
have  in  the  last  month  received  some  assistance 

from ,  which  would  once  have  pleased  me  well ; 

but,  alas !  your  Advent,  Good  Friday,  and  Palm 
Sunday  hymns  have  spoilt  me  for  all  other  attempts 
of  the  sort. 

And  on  December  28th  : — 

You  have  indeed  sent  me  a  most  powerful  re- 
inforcement to  my  projected  hymn-book,  and  I 
shall  neither  need  nor  wait  for  the  aid  of  Scott  and 
Southey.  Most  sincerely,  I  have  not  seen  any 
lines  of  the  kind  which  more  completely  correspond 
to  my  ideas  of  what  such  compositions  ought  to  be, 
or  to  the  plan,  the  outline  of  which  it  has  been  my 
wish  to  fill  up. 


in.]  HYMNS   IN   HEBER'S   COLLECTION  59 

Those,  too,  who  may  not  care,  or  have  time,  to 
recur  to  the  religious  dramas  as  a  whole,  may  be 
reminded  that  in  them  are  scattered  other  hymns 
and  Christian  lyric  odes  which  are  admittedly  of 
a  high  order  of  beauty  a^nd  merit.  Of  these,  that 
noble  ode  in  the  Fall  of  Jerusalem  of  which  the 
following  is  the  opening  stanza  has  often  been 
quoted.  It  appeals  to  the  All- Merciful  : — 

For  Thou  wert  born  of  woman  :  Thou  didst  come, 
O  Holiest !  to  this  world  of  sin  and  gloom, 
Not  in  Thy  dread  omnipotent  array ; 

And  not  by  thunders  strew' d 

Was  Thy  tempestuous  road  : 
Nor  indignation  burns  before  Thee  on  Thy  way. 
But  Thee,  a  soft  and  naked  child, 

Thy  mother  undefiled 
In  the  rude  manger  laid  to  rest 

From  off  her  virgin  breast. 

Equally  beautiful  is  Margarita's  ecstatic  song  when 
led  to  execution  at  Antioch  : — 

What  means  yon  blaze  on  high  ? 

The  empyrean  sky, 

Like  the  rich  veil  of  some  proud  fane,  is  rending. 

And  that  most  pathetic  hymn  of  the  bereaved  parents 
in  Belshazzar : — 

O  Thou  that  wilt  not  break  the  bruised  reed, 

Nor  heap  fresh  ashes  on  the  mourner's  brow, 

Nor  rend  anew  the  wounds  that  inly  bleed, 

The  only  balm  of  our  affliction  Thou, 

Teach  us  to  bear  Thy  chastening  wrath,  O  God  ! 

To  kiss  with  quivering  lips — still  humbly  kiss — Thy  rod. 

For  many  years  after  his  appointment  to  St.  Mary's 
at  Reading,  my  father's  intimate  connection  with  his 


60  LETTER  TO   COLERIDGE  [CHAP, 

University  still  remained  unbroken.  He  was  a  Select 
Preacher  in  1820,  Professor  of  Poetry  in  1821, 
Bampton  Lecturer  in  1827.  The  following  letter  to 
his  friend  Coleridge  with  reference  to  his  candidature 
for  the  professorship  is  of  some  interest.  It  must 
not  be  forgotten,  however,  while  reading  it,  that 
some  years  had  still  to  elapse  before  Keble's  name, 
as  the  author  of  the  "  Christian  Year,"  was  to 
become  a  household  word  : — 

ST.  MARY'S,  READING,  November  $th,  1821. 

MY  DEAR  COLERIDGE, — 

Many  thanks  for  your  very  kind  letter  which 
I  found  on  my  table  on  my  return  from  Oxford,  to 
which  the  rumour  of  Keble's  opposition  had  hurried 
me,  as  I  wished  to  consult  my  friends  there  on  the 
subject.  On  my  arrival  I  was  most  agreeably 
relieved  from  all  my  uneasiness  by  hearing  Keble's 
determination  ;  his  conduct  in  the  whole  transaction 
has  been,  what  all  who  know  him  would  expect,  most 
honourable,  and  such  as  to  endear  him  to  me  more 
than  even  my  former  regard  for  his  character.  The 
being  opposed  by  him  would  have  been  most  un- 
pleasant, as  certainly  the  less  collision  there  is  in  the 
interest  of  friends  the  better,  and  the  contest  would 
have  placed  many  of  our  mutual  intimates  in  a  very 
unpleasant  state  of  embarrassment.  This  is  now, 
however,  over ;  and  my  chance  of  success,  which 
against  Keble  would  have  depended  on  the  number 
of  votes  out  of  the  University  which  I  could  have 
brought  up,  and  I  think  (in  confidence  to  you  I 
state  it)  that  I  could  have  moved  a  good  majority, 
may  now  be  safely  left  to  the  residents  to  decide. 
Of  course  this  mode  of  viewing  the  subject  migh 
give  more  deadly  offence  to  this  latter  body  than 
any  of  my  other  conduct.  You  therefore  will  see 


in.]  PROFESSORSHIP   OF   POETRY  6 1 

that  it  is  intended  only  for  your  private  ear.  For 
my  other  trespasses  I  really  cannot  plead  guilty  to 
them.  The  first  is  a  shaft  from  that  quiver  of 
calumny  which  showered  on  to  our  heads  so 
abundantly  during  the  late  contest.  To  drop  all 
metaphor,  it  is  a  great  lie.  I  have  indeed  mentioned 
to  my  friends  my  intention  of  standing,  and  I  may 
have  said  to  some  very  intimate  ones  that  I  expected 
their  votes  ;  it  is  also  true  that  I  have  been  asked 
my  intention,  and  voluntarily  been  promised  support, 
by  one  or  two  persons  with  whom  I  was  not  personally 
acquainted  ;  but  no  solicitation  has  been  made  by  me 
outside  of  that  circle,  and  my  Brasenose  friends  would 
justly  have  thought  me  selfish  and  interested  if  I  had 
thought  of  intruding  myself  during  the  progress,  or 
in  the  immediate  prospect  of  Heber's  more  important 
election.*  For  my  second  head  of  offending  I  can 
say  in  the  words  of  Mrs.  Malaprop,  "  How  can  I  help 
it  if  the  gods  have  made  me  poetical  ?  "  But  saving 
my  antagonists'  wisdom,  what  do  they  know  of  our 
respective  critical  talents  ?  If  a  man  writes  good 
poetry,  it  is  some  cause  for  suspecting  that  he  knows 
something  about  poetry.  Enough  of  this,  however  ; 
and,  seriously,  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 
your  kind  caution  and  advice.  It  was  thought 
prudent  by  my  friends  that  I  should  not  appear  or 
visit  any  one  the  day  I  was  at  Oxford,  lest  it  should 
appear  canvassing.  As,  however,  I  am  Preacher, 
either  this  term  or  the  beginning  of  next,  an  un- 
exceptionable opportunity  will  occur  of  passing  some 
days  in  Oxford.  I  ought  perhaps  to  have  thanked 
you  for  waiving  your  own  claims,  which  I  do  most 
sincerely.  Shuttleworth  I  know  to  have  long  de- 
clined— I  believe  from  a  decided  dislike  to  all  public 
appearance,  which  makes  even  preaching  disagree- 
able to  him.  I  have  nearly  ready  for  publication 

*  The  election  of  Mr.  Richard  Heber  as  burgess  to  represent  the 
University  in  Parliament. 


62  ELECTION   TO   THE   CHAIR  [CHAP. 

the  Martyr  of  Antioch,  a  dramatic  poem  ;  not  quite 
so  near,  but  far  advanced,  Belshazzar.  What  say 
you  as  to  the  prudence  of  publishing  at  all  before 
the  P.P.  is  decided?  I  am  sure  Murray  will  be 
regulated  by  me  about  publication.  The  latter  I 
have  great  hopes  of. 

Believe  me  ever  very  sincerely  yours, 

H.   H.   MILMAN. 

Eventually  my  father  was  elected  to  the  chair — 
I  believe  without  opposition ;  and  being,  as  the 
custom  was  and  is,  re-elected  for  a  second  term  in 
1826,  he  continued  to  hold  the  professorship  till 
1831.  His  lectures  on  the  history  of  Greek 
poetry,  composed  and  delivered,  according  to  the 
ancient  and  then  rigid  usage,  in  Latin,  were  long 
remembered  for  the  beautiful  translations  from 
Greek  and  Latin  poets  with  which  they  were 
enlivened  and  illustrated — an  object  in  itself  desir- 
able, as  that  perfect  familiarity  with  Latin  which 
would  enable  the  audience  to  follow  an  unbroken 
lecture  in  that  language  was  by  no  means  general, 
especially  among  the  younger  students.  These 
translations,  with  translations  of  the  "Agamemnon" 
of  ^Eschylus  and  the  "  Bacchanals  "  of  Euripides,, 
published  in  1864,  form  a  charming  volume. 

After  referring  to  his  lectures  and  to  the  occasion 
for  which  the  translations  had  been  originally  made, 
my  father,  in  a  few  introductory  sentences  to  explain 
their  conservation  and  publication  after  an  interval 
of  some  forty  years,  says  : — 

I  '  have    consigned    my   lectures    with   unaverted 


HI.]  POETICAL  TRANSLATIONS  63 

eyes  to  the  flames.  The  translations  I  was,  how- 
ever, not  quite  so  easily  content  to  part  with. 
They  were  heard  at  the  time  with  much  favour 
by  many  whose  judgment  stood  high  in  the 
University,  and  I  have  met  with  some  in  later 
days  (one  *  especially,  by  whose  brilliant  and  busy 
life  such  reminiscences,  I  should  have  supposed, 
would  have  been  long  utterly  effaced)  who  retained 
a  vivid  impression  of  the  delight  with  which  they 
had  heard  them  in  their  youth.  To  these  (few, 
I  fear),  as  to  myself,  they  may  be  welcome  as 
pleasant  voices  from  days  long  gone  by ;  while  to 
some  others  (not,  I  fear,  too  many),  lovers  of  Greek 
poetry  especially,  they  may  not  be  altogether 
unacceptable. 

From  the  professor's  chair  at  Oxford,  too,  was 
read  a  part  of  those  translations  from  the  Sanscrit 
which  afterwards  appeared  under  the  title  of  "  Nala 
and  Damayanti,  and  Other  Poems."  t  His  account 
of  the  manner  in  which  he  became  engaged  in  these 
studies  is  thus  explained  {  : — 

During  the  last  two  years  in  which  I  held  the 
office  of  Professor  of  Poetry  in  the  University  of 
Oxford,  having  exhausted  the  subject  which  I  had 
chosen  for  my  terminal  course,  I  was  at  loss  for 
some  materials  for  the  few  remaining  lectures  before 
my  office  should  expire.  I  had  been  led,  by  the 
ardent  curiosity  which  I  have  ever  felt  to  acquire 

*  Bishop  Samuel  Wilberforce,  I  think. 

t  An  edition  of  the  Sanscrit  text  of  the  story  of  "  Nala  "  was  pub- 
lished by  Professor  Monier  Williams  in  1860,  side  by  side  with  my 
father's  metrical  translation,  to  which  the  Professor,  referring,  says  : 
"The  author  has  himself  kindly  taken  the  trouble  to  improve  the 
present  version,  and  has  adapted  it  so  closely  to  the  new  text  that 
line  answers  to  line  with  surprising  fidelity." 

J  Preface  to  "  Nala  and  Damayantf." 


64  "NALA   AND   DAMAYANTf"  [CHAP. 

some  knowledge  of  the  poetry  of  all  ages  and 
nations,  to  examine  some  of  the  publications  of 
French  and  German  as  well  as  English  scholars 
on  the  subject  of  Indian  poetry,  chiefly  those  of 
the  Schlegels,  of  Bopp,  and  of  De  Chezy.  I  was 
struck  with  the  singularity,  and  captivated  by  the 
extreme  beauty,  as  it  appeared  to  me,  of  some  of 
the  extracts,  especially  those  from  the  great  epic 
poems,  the  "  Mahabharata"  and  the  "  Ramayana,"  in 
their  Homeric  simplicity  so  totally  opposite  to  the 
ordinary  notions  entertained  of  all  Eastern  poetry. 
I  was  induced  to  attempt,  without  any  instruction, 
and  with  the  few  elementary  works  that  could  be 
procured,  to  obtain  some  knowledge  of  this  wonder- 
ful and  mysterious  language.  The  study  grew 
upon  me,  and  would  have  been  pursued  with  more 
ardour,  perhaps  with  more  success,  but  for  the 
constant  interruption  of  more  imperative  and  literary 
avocations.  ...  I  ventured  to  communicate  to  the 
members  of  the  University  who  attended  my 
lectures  my  discoveries,  as  it  were,  in  the  unknown 
region  of  Indian  poetry,  and  to  introduce  transla- 
tions of  such  passages  as  appeared  to  me  of  peculiar 
singularity  or  beauty.  Though  I  was  still  moving 
in  the  leading-strings  of  my  learned  guides,  I  had 
obtained  sufficient  acquaintance  with  the  language 
to  compare  their  interpretations  with  the  original 
text.  I  afterwards  embodied  some  part  of  my 
lectures  in  an  article  in  the  Quarterly  Review*  in 
order  to  contribute  as  far  as  was  in  my  power 
to  open  this  new  and  almost  untrodden  field  of 
literature  to  the  English  reader. 

In  the  Long  Vacation  of  the  year  (1822)  succeed- 
ing his  election  to  the  Poetry  Professorship,  my 
father  found  time  for  a  much-longed-for  visit  to 

*  July,  1831. 


in.]  VISIT  TO   ITALY  65: 

Italy,  his  farthest  point  being  Naples.     One  letter      / 
out  of  several  which   were  written  to  his  sister  in 
the  course  of  this  tour  may  be  given,  as  containing 
an  amusing  account  of  a  scene    in  the    streets    of 
Naples  at  which  he  was  present : — 

ROME,  July  2oM,  1822. 
MY  DEAR  EMILY, — 

I  suppose  this  letter  will  find  you  returned 
to  Pinner,  I  hope  in  as  flourishing  a  state  after  your 
short  journey  as   I   am  after  my  long   one.     You 
must  not  be  surprised  at  the  date  of  my  letter,  nor 
suppose  that   I    have  been  at  Rome  all  this  time. 
I  found  my  ambition  increase  as  I  advanced,  and 
I     therefore    determined    on    running    to    Naples, 
whence  I  am  just  returned,  most  excessively  unwill- 
ing to  leave  that  most  enchanting  place.     I  found 
there   the    Comptons,    who    were    more   kind   and 
hospitable  than  I  could  have  expected  even    from 
them.      I  almost  entirely  lived  with  them,  except  a 
day  or  two  with  the  Hamiltons.     The  Ambassador 
and  they  showed  me  every  evening  some  new  and 
beautiful  drive.     In  short,  what  with  the  rich  sky, 
the  blue  sea,   the  town  and  the  environs,  and  the 
society,  I  could  have  spent  many  weeks  there  with 
the  greatest  delight.      Of  all  odd  people  certainly 
Pulcinello   is    the  drollest  and  most  amusing,  and 
I  saw  an  instance  of  a  " 'fuggi,  fuggi" — a  new  and 
expressive  term  for  that  most  discreet   system   of 
retreating  before  an  enemy  for  which  the  Neapolitans 
are  celebrated,  and  which  in  the  town  is  followed  by 
a  (( serra,  serra"  which  means,  "Shut  up  your  shops." 
I  was  present  at  the  reception  of  a  new  Saint,  or 
rather   a  Beato,  for  he  will  not   be    Saint   till   the 
next    Brevet.     About   this   same   person  there  are 
some  singular  and  not  over  saintly  stories  ;  but  as 
he  died  fifty  years  ago,  and  has  passed  through  a 
fair  probation  of  miracle-making,    all    Naples   was 


66  A  SCENE   AT  NAPLES  [CHAP. 

poured  forth  to  see  a  procession,  which  might  have 
been  fine,  in  which  his  bones  were  carried  to  be 
installed  in  the  Church  of  the  Jesuits.  We  (the 
Comptons  and  I)  were  in  an  excellent  balcony  in  the 
Strada  Toledo,  looking  down  on  the  street  paved 
with  people  of  all  sorts.  Part  of  the  procession, 
two  or  three  banners  and  a  number  of  boys  carrying 
flowers  and  some  priests,  had  passed,  when  suddenly 
"  Fuggi,  fuggi ! "  was  the  cry.  And  never  was  word 
of  command  better  obeyed  :  for  off  they  all  scam- 
pered— at  least  all  who  did  not  tumble  over  each 
other — procession  and  all ;  out  went  the  torches ; 
down  fell  the  flowers ;  the  banners  were  wrapped 
round  the  poles ;  and  in  an  instant  there  remained  only 
.a  few  soldiers  (the  Austrians,  on  the  whole,  seemed 
cool  and  not  very  suspicious) — but  five  Neapolitan 
soldiers  actually  stood  their  ground,  no  one  else 
being  left  in  the  street,  and  began  to  load  their 
muskets.  This  made  us  at  first  think  that  some 
revolutionary  movement  had  taken  place,  or  some- 
thing serious ;  but  before  long  a  certain  number 
of  the  people  returned,  the  broken  procession  began 
to  form  again,  when,  alas!  " Fuggi,  fuggi!  "  was  again 
the  cry,  and  three  times,  for  no  reason  whatever 
as  far  as  we  could  make  out,  did  this  very  droll 
panic  sweep  the  streets  clean.  His  Majesty  was 
not  there,  or  probably  his  royal  person  would  not 
have  escaped  the  contagion,  as  on  a  former  occasion, 
with  great  naivete,  he  allowed  that  he  had  a  con- 
siderable paura,  adding,  "Anch'  io  son  Napolitano." 
As  for  what  I  have  seen,  I  have  been  in  such  a 
state  of  continued  motion  that  I  have  had  no  time 
to  make  any  journal  or  to  write  at  all,  excepting 
certain  mystical  notes  for  memoranda  in  my  guide- 
books. I  arrived  in  Rome  three  days  before  the 
illumination  of  St.  Peter's,  which  of  all  sights 
which  I  ever  saw  or  ever  could  imagine  is  the 
most  splendid,  sufficient  to  repay  all  the  heat 


in.]  SUMMARY   OF   TOUR  67 

and  fatigue  which  I  have  gone  through.  Indeed, 
as  to  the  first,  nothing  that  I  have  since  endured 
has  been  at  all  equal  to  the  two  days  at  Paris,  and 
we  find  that  the  thermometer  has  been  as  high 
in  London  as  in  Rome.  The  only  thing  which  I 
have  been  obliged  to  give  up  with  great  regret  has 
been  Paestum  ;  but  it  required  three  days,  which  I 
could  not  spare  ;  and  the  malaria  of  the  morning 
and  evening,  which  is  there  I  really  believe  a  serious 
cause  for  alarm  at  this  time  of  the  year,  and  the 
tremendous  heat  of  the  middle  of  the  day  on  those 
barren  and  treeless  plains,  made  it  impossible  to 
go  there.  With  this  exception,  I  have  seen  or 
hope  to  see  almost  everything  worth  notice  in 
Italy.  There  are  only  two  considerable  towns, 
Pisa  and  Mantua,  which  I  cannot  bring  into  my 
route.  Here  I  stay  only  two  or  three  days  to  recruit 
after  my  journey  of  twenty-six  hours  from  Naples, 
and  to  see  a  few  things  which  remain.  Hence  I  go 
to  Florence,  where  I  have  not  been  yet,  and  where 
I  hope  to  find  letters  :  after  that  Venice,  Verona 
to  Milan,  Milan  to  Genoa,  if  time  remains,  and 
home  over  the  Mont  Cenis. 

My  love  to  my  Lady,  and  tell  her  that  I  rather 
longed  to  see  her  basking  in  the  evening  sun  in 
some  of  the  lovely  valleys  near  Naples,  inhaling 
the  scent  of  myrtle  and  orange  flowers,  and  looking 
over  most  richly  wooded  declivities  to  the  bay,  which 
is  the  most  picturesque  in  its  form  possible.  Re- 
member me  to  all  friends  ;  love  to  William,  and 
tell  him  that  he  has  been  as  hot  as  I. 

Yours  affectionately, 

H.  H.  M. 

My  servant  turns  out  excellent,  active,  honest, 
and  studying  my  interest  and  comfort  in  every- 
thing. 

Many   years    were   to   elapse   before   my   father 


68  PAROCHIAL  WORK  [CHAP. 

had  another   opportunity  of  gratifying  his  love   of 
foreign   travel    and    of  art   by    visiting    the    great 
Continental    galleries.      But   so  much  of  the   time 
that  could  properly  be  spared  from  his  professional 
obligations  was  taken  up    by  his   engagements   at 
Oxford,  and  by    frequent,   almost    necessary   visits 
to  London,  then  a  somewhat  tedious  coach  journey 
of  several    hours,   that    little   leisure   remained  for 
more  distant   excursions.      It    is    indeed  true  that, 
in  the  earlier  years  of  this  century,  the  time  of  the 
parochial  clergy  was  not  so  exhaustingly  occupied, 
as  now,  by  the  duty  of  providing  for  an  ^~»^riVrl 
and   a   constant   succession    of  daily   servicco.     AH 
this  respect  we  are  other,  possibly  better,  than  our 
fathers.     Still,    the   claims   upon   the   time   of  one 
who  was  ever  ready  to  advise,  to  console,  to  take 
a  leading  part  in  every  effort  to  improve  the  in- 
tellectual and  moral    condition  of  his  parishioners 
and  of  the  town    in  which  his  lot  was  cast,  were 
incessant ;    and    to    these   duties   all    others   were 
subsidiary.     But  it  is  just  this  hourly  performance 
of    the    "  trivial    round,    the   common    task,"    that 
neither  seeks  nor  can  have  a  record.     This  only 
may  be  said  :  that  whatever  my  father  s  hand  found 
to  do,  he  did  it  with  all  his  might. 

If  tempted,  then,  indeed  almost  forced,  to  deal 
more  exclusively  with  the  literary  and  social 
aspect  of  my  father's  diversified  pursuits,  it  should 
never  be  forgotten  that  these  were  for  many  years 
grounded  upon  and  subordinate  to  absorbing  pro- 
fessional duties.  Sparkling  with  wit  and  humour, 


HI.]  RADICALISM   AT   READING  69 

full  of  spirits  and  energy,  yet  always  a  conscientious 
and  hard-working  parish  priest,  the  circle  of  the 
Vicar's  attached  friends  and  admirers  in  the  town, 
in  the  surrounding  neighbourhood,  drawn  from  all 
classes,  from  all  parties,  was  ever  widening.  No 
doubt  the  work  was  at  times  rather  uphill]:  for  there 
was  in  Reading  a  strong  infusion  of  Radicalism, 
never  friendly  to  the  Church  ;  and  in  the  years 
immediately  preceding  the  Reform  Bill  popular 
opinion  was  easily  excited  on  occasions  worthy 
and  also  unworthy — such,  for  instance,  as  that 
which- was  afforded  by  the  trial  of  Queen  Caroline. 
The  occasionally  somewhat  amusing  excitement 
engendered  by  this  unfortunate  trial  is  illustrated 
in  the  following  extracts  : — 

VICARAGE,  ST.  MARY'S,  1820. 

We  are  going  to  attempt  to  fan  the  lurking 
embers  of  loyalty  in  this  town  of  Radical  darkness, 
and  intend  blazing  forth  in  a  loyal  declaration. 
The  bellows  of  my  zeal  have  been  employed  in 
puffing  the  flame ;  it  is  lucky,  therefore,  that 
illuminations  are  over,  or  my  windows  might  not 
escape  so  well.  We  had  a  Radical  meeting,  where 

my  friend  Mr.   figured,   and,  like  John  Cam 

Hobhouse,  to  display  his  travelled  knowledge,  he 
said  that  the  Swiss  peasant  girls  wore  shockingly 
short  petticoats ;  therefore  there  could  be  no  harm 
in  anything  the  Queen  had  done.  A  humorous 
gentleman  followed,  who  gave  a  very  merry  account 
of  how  our  ancestors  now  and  then  cut  off  kings' 
and  archbishops'  heads.  So  much  for  Reading 
news.  The  only  good  new  anecdote  which  I  have 
heard  is  one,  seriously  and  gravely  told  me,  of 


70  TRIAL   OF   QUEEN   CAROLINE  [CHAP. 

which  Michael  Angelo  Taylor*  is  the  hero.  He 
expressed  his  regret  at  being  obliged  to  leave 
London.  "  Indeed,"  he  added,  "  I  am  seriously  dis- 
appointed. I  did  think  that  before  this  the  King 
would  have  sent  for  me,  and  that  he  would  have 
said,  '  Michael,  it  is  time  that  you  and  I  should 
end  our  differences.'  What  am  I  to  do?"  Now, 
really,  how  the  King  can  so  wickedly  disappoint 
little  Michael,  or  how  these  pertinacious  Ministers 
can  obstinately  stay  in  after  Sir  Claudius  Hunter  f 
has  told  them  to  go,  is  surprising.  As  he  modestly 
said,  "  I  thought  it  my  duty — they  might  consider 
it  presumptuous,  but  I  really  could  not  help  telling 
the  Ministers  the  only  thing  they  have  now  to  do 
is  to  give  up  their  places." 

And  writing  again  on  October  25th  : — 

We  are  flat  enough.  Everybody  is  too  tired 
of  her  gracious  Majesty  to  talk  of  her,  and  yet 
she  almost  debars  us  from  any  other  topic.  How 
very  cleverly  Brougham  has  managed  the  whole, 
wanting  every  witness  who  could  not  come,  and 
contriving  to  be  prevented  adducing  the  proofs 
that  witnesses  have  been  suborned  !  He  justifies 
the  story  which  he  himself  tells  of  her  Majesty : 
"  She  says  she  has  two  friends  :  one  a  very  honest 
fellow  and  a  great  fool — that's  Alderman  Wood  ; 
the  other  a  very  clever  fellow  and  a  great  rogue — 
that's  me." 

In    the    month    of  May,    1824,    my    father   was 

married    to    Mary    Anne,    younger    daughter    of 

\     Lieutenant-General    William    Cockell — to    her    to 

*  Michael  Angelo  Taylor,  M.P.,  known  by  the  sobriquet  of  Chicken 
Taylor,  of  whose  pomposity  many  laughable  stories  are  told.  See 
Lord  Campbell's  "  Lives  of  the  Chancellors,"  vii.  405. 

t  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  181 1. 


K 
\  & 


ci 


HI.]  MARRIAGE  71 

whom  he  afterwards  dedicated  the  collected  edition 
of  his  poems,  as  having  made  "  the  poetry  of  life 
reality."  And  so  indeed  she  did.  The  marriage 
was  a  singularly  happy  one.  Sorrows,  hereafter 
alluded  to,  came  of  course,  overshadowing  their 
happiness  for  a  time.  But  whatever  befell  seemed 
only  to  draw  them  closer  together.  Our  mother's 
regular  features  and  fine  figure  were  animated  by 
a  gentle  dignity.  Her  ready  sympathy  and  singular 
sweetness  of  disposition,  to  which  all  harsh  judgments 
seemed  strange  and  improbable,  won  her  many 
friends,  high-born,  accomplished,  or  homely.  She 
was  one  of  those  whose  name  was  rarely  mentioned 
without  the  prefix  "  dear."  Unaffected  piety,  with- 
out any  profession,  made  bright  a  life  to  which  all 
things  grave  and  beautiful  were  matters  of  enjoy- 
ment, something  to  be  thankful  for.  A  complete 
congruity  of  sentiment  made  her  entire  devotion 
to  her  husband  not  less  perfect,  because  it  was 
inevitable. 

Our  grandfather,  General  Cockell,  was  a  fine 
old  soldier  who  had  served  his  country  all  over 
the  world.  In  truth,  he  was  a  born  soldier.  As 
a  boy  he  used  to  drill  the  village  lads,  forming 
them  into  companies,  and  marching  them  over  the 
country.  When  he  could  not  prevail  upon  his 
parents  to  part  with  their  only  surviving  son,  he 
stole  away  and  enlisted  as  a  private  soldier ;  nor, 
until  after  his  arrival  in  Canada,  did  he  communicate 
with  those  at  home.  His  father  then  gave  way, 
obtained  his  discharge,  and  bought  him  his  first 


72         LIEUT.-GENERAL  WILLIAM   COCKELL      [CHAP. 

commission  in  the  2nd  Queen's  Regiment  in  1782. 
Later,  in  1793,  he  was  Captain;  then  successively 
Major  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  in  the  iO5th  Foot, 
a  newly  raised  regiment,  which  was  disbanded  at 
the  Peace  of  Amiens.  He  became  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  of  the  46th  Foot  1800,  of  the  5th  Fusileers 
1802,  and  was  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  with 
the  rank  of  Brigadier-General  1 806-10.  Here 
General  Cockell  attained  his  highest  position — that 
of  Acting  Governor  of  the  Cape,  when,  as  Com- 
mandant of  the  Forces,  he  occupied  Government 
House  in  the  absence  of  the  Governor,  and  ad- 
ministered the  affairs  of  the  Colony,  already  so 
important  by  its  position  on  the  old  high-road  to 
India.  He  was  Lieutenant-General  1814,  and 
died  Governor  of  Edinburgh  Castle  in  1831.  His 
last  years  were  passed  at  Sandleford  Lodge, 
near  Newbury,  one  of  those  lovely  "  silent  woody 
places  "  only  to  be  found  in  England,  with  its  bright 
stream  crossing  the  road,  and  a  little  wooden  bridge 
for  foot-passengers — the  grand  trees  of  the  Priory 
(then  the  property  of  Lord  Rokeby)  on  one  side 
of  the  hollow,  and  the  modest  approach  to  the 
Lodge  on  the  other.  It  was  here  my  father  wooed 
the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  old  soldier. 

For  the  most  exciting  incident  in  my  grand- 
father's career — an  incident  perhaps  worth  pre- 
serving— we  must,  however,  go  back  to  1796,  as 
it  happened  on  the  occasion  of  General  Hoche's 
attempted  invasion  of  Ireland,  so  imprudently 
deferred  until  midwinter.  That  able  general  did 


in.]  AN   ADVENTURE   IN   IRELAND  73 

not,  it  will  be  remembered,  sail  from  Brest  until 
December  i5th.  His  fleet  consisted  of  seventeen 
sail  of  the  line,  thirteen  frigates,  and,  with  the 
addition  of  corvettes  and  transports,  carried  fifteen 
thousand  French  troops.  Admiral  Bouvet  and 
General  Grouchy  actually  arrived  on  the  22nd  at 
Bear  Island,  at  the  mouth  of  Bantry  Bay,  with 
half  the  troops,  seven  sail  of  the  line,  and  ten  other 
vessels.  At  that  time  young  Cockell  was  on  the 
staff  of  General  Sir  James  Duff,  who  had  a  com- 
mand in  the  south-west  of  Ireland.  On  the  advent 
of  this  grave  news  the  General  and  his  Aide-de- 
camp set  off  in  advance  of  the  troops  in  a  carriage, 
escorted  by  a  troop  of  dragoons,  to  ascertain  the 
real  position  of  affairs.  After  passing  through 
Kenmare,  they  had  to  traverse  the  wild  mountain 
tract  that  separates  that  estuary  from  Bantry  Bay. 
Pressing  on  through  the  night,  they  were  caught 
in  the  same  wild  snowstorm  that  prevented 
Admiral  Bouvet  from  penetrating  up  the  lough.  In 
the  darkness  they  missed  the  rough  track.  The 
carriage  fell  over  a  cliff]  and  the  horses  were  killed. 
Rendered  alert  by  the  unusual  jolting,  the  General 
and  his  Aide-de-camp  sprang  out  just  in  time,  and 
escaped  with  a  few  bruises.  They  then  dismounted 
two  of  the  dragoons,  took  their  horses,  and  hurried 
on  through  the  darkness.  Day  dawned  as  they 
were  descending  on  to  the  shore,  when  they  were 
not  a  little  relieved  to  find  neither  a  considerable 
force  of  French  soldiers  to  be  reconnoitred,  nor 
bands  of  insurgent  peasantry,  but  only  an  angry 


74  ADMIRAL   BOUVET  [CHAP. 

cock  to  salute  them  with  belligerent  Growings. 
Discouraged  by  the  non-arrival  of  the  rest  of  the 
expedition,  and  fearful  lest  the  wind  should  veer 
to  the  south-west,  Admiral  Bouvet,  who  had  already 
found  it  difficult  to  maintain  his  position,  had  dis- 
regarded the  entreaties  of  the  soldiers  to  be  set  on 
shore,  and  had  stood  out  to  sea,  not  regaining  the 
harbour  of  Brest  without  the  loss  of  five  ships. 


iv.]  REVIEWER  AND   CRITIC  75 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  Quarterly  Review— Appreciation  of  Gifford— Letter  to  Cole- 
ridge on  Editorship — A  Frequent  Contributor — "History  of  the 
Jews  "—Outcry  against— Thirty  Years  after— Edition  of  Gibbon. 

A  FEW  reminiscences  of  my  father  as  scholar 
and  poet  have  been  given  in  the  two 
previous  chapters ;  his  work  as  an  historian  will 
subsequently  be  approached.  Before  speaking, 
however,  of  the  "  History  of  the  Jews,"  the  first 
in  order  of  his  historical  works,  it  seems  advisable 
to  make  some  mention  of  his  connection  with  the 
Quarterly  Review,  to  the  pages  of  which  he  was 
at  one  time  a  constant,  at  all  times  a  valued 
contributor.  A  full  list  of  these  contributions, 
embracing  a  wide  variety  of  matter,  would  run  to 
great  length.  The  first  of  them,  upon  "  Italian 
Tragedy,"  appeared  in  the  October  number  of  the  / 
Review,  1820;  the  last,  an  essay  upon  "Pagan 
and  Christian  Sepulchres,"  more  than  forty  years 
years  later,  in  July,  1865.  Of  Mr.  Gifford,  the  first 
editor  of  the  Review,  for  whom  as  a  young  man 
his  first  work  was  done,  my  father  always  enter- 
tained a  kindly  recollection. 

I   heard   [he    writes  to  Mr.  Murray,  under  date 
of  January   5th,    1827],  with  that  regret  which  all 


76  MR.   GIFFORD  [CHAP. 

must  have  felt  who  had  an  opportunity  of  ap- 
preciating his  character,  the  account  of  Gilford's 
death.  You  may  well  say  and  appeal  to  the 
Quarterly  that  his  place  is  not  likely  to  be  filled 
by  his  equal.  Many  knew  his  uncommon  critical 
sagacity,  his  peculiar  judgment,  and  his  felicity  in 
striking  off  character  with  a  few  satirical  touches  ; 
but  his  kindness  to  young  authors  whose  talents 
and  principles  he  admired,  and  his  social  qualities, 
are  known  to  comparatively  few. 

And  in  an  earlier  letter  to  Coleridge  : — 

Your  account  of  poor  Gifford  is  melancholy.  I 
agree  with  you  fully  in  the  kindness  of  his  manner, 
which  certainly  was  singularly  contrasted  with  the 
bitterness  of  his  satire.  To  me  he  was  always 
extremely  obliging,  and  indeed  in  some  respects 
exceedingly  useful. 

Mr.  Gifford  did  not  formally  resign  the  editorship 
till  the  close  of  1824  ;  but  at  least  two  years  pre- 
viously it  had  become  evident,  from  the  state  of 
his  health,  that  his  retirement  could  not  be  long 
postponed,  and  there  was  naturally  much  speculation 
as  to  the  person  who  would  be  chosen  to  succeed 
him.  So  far  back  as  1822  it  appears  to  have  been 
confidently  rumoured,  though  the  announcement 
was  premature,  that  the  appointment  had  been 
accepted  by  Mr.  John  Taylor  Coleridge,  whose 
claims  had  been  urged  by  Southey  ;  and  that  my 
father  seems  to  have  taken  the  news  as  authentic 
is  shown  by  the  following  letter  to  Coleridge,  in 
which  he  refers  to  the  appointment  as  if  it  had 
been  completed,  and  makes,  with  offers  of  assistance, 


iv.]  "THE   QUARTERLY   REVIEW"  77 

some  general  observations  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  the  conduct  of  the  Review  might  in  some 
respects  be  improved  : — 

OXFORD,  December  $rd,  1822. 

MY  DEAR  COLERIDGE, — 

I  hear  with  much  pleasure  that  the  Quarterly 
Review  is  likely  to  devolve  to  your  care,  and  should 
have  written  to  you  on  the  subject,  even  had  not 
a  paragraph  in  the  Morning  Chronicle  of  yesterday 
assigning  it  to  me  rather  accelerated  my  communi-   / 
cation.     For   my   own   part  I  have   long  felt,  and 
expressed  myself  in  the  spring  to  Reginald  Heber 
on  the  point,  that  no  clergyman  ought  at  the  present 
juncture  to  be  placed  in  the  situation.     In  these  days 
it  is  our  duty  not  to  force  ourselves  into  situations 
where  the  obloquy  which  must  fall  upon  every  one 
who,  however  conscientiously,  intermingles  himself 
with   politics   will   spread   abroad    over   our   whole 
body.       The   clergy    must   not   unnecessarily   seek 
unpopularity.     Neither  would  my  personal  situation 
or  inclinations    lead   me   without  a  great  effort  to 
sacrifice  the  time  necessary  for  such  an  occupation. 
I  am  conscious  of  stealing  as  much,  or  more  perhaps 
than  I  ought,  of  both  time  and  labour  for  my  own 
pursuits  from  my  profession,  and  could  not  justify 
myself  in  adding  this  new  avocation  to  my  present. 
And  even  putting  conscientious  motives  out  of  the 
question,  I  should  extremely  doubt  the  prudence  of 
such   a   measure    from    a   worldly   point   of    view. 
Political  partizanship,  which,  however  fairly  or  un- 
fairly, will  always  be  attributed  to  the  editor  of  such 
a  journal,  will  in  the  present  day  be  rather  in  the 
way  of  advancement  in  my  profession  than  favour 
it ;  and  though  at  present  I  feel  singularly  indifferent 
upon  such  subjects,  circumstances  may  occur  which 
might  make  me  deeply  regret  the  having  engaged 
in  any  occupation  which  should  interfere  with  my 


78          EDITORSHIP   OF   THE   "QUARTERLY"     [CHAP. 

promotion.     Not  that  at  present  I  have  any  imme- 
diate views  of  such  a  nature ;  yet  every  man  may 
look  forward  to  a  wife  and  family,  which  will  make 
it  a  duty  to  advance  himself  as  far  as  he  is  able  by 
fair  and  conscientious  means.     You  will,  perhaps, 
be  making  some  professional  sacrifice,  but  still  the 
usefulness   of    the   situation   will    more   than    com- 
pensate for  that ;  and  if  your  legal  business  should 
rapidly   increase,  it  will    then   be   time    to    confine 
yourself  to  that  alone  ;  and  by  a  skilful  management 
of  your  time  I  do  not  doubt  that  at  present  you 
may  reconcile   the   two  avocations.     For  my  own 
part  I  hope  you  will  make  no  scruple  in  employing 
me   in  whatever   may  lighten    your   labours.       In- 
dependent of  personal  contributions — which  perhaps 
I    am    not    presumptuous    in    supposing    may   be 
occasionally  acceptable  within  certain  limits,  to  which 
I  have  hitherto  and  hope  still  to  confine  myself — if 
by  sending  down  to  me  papers  on  particular  sub- 
jects (foreign  literature,  for  instance),  or  others  in  my 
own  professional  department,   I  can  (quite  privately 
between  ourselves)  save  you  time  or  trouble,  you 
may  depend  upon  my  rendering  you  all  the  assistance 
which  my  abilities  and  judgment  can  afford.     I  make 
this    offer  partly  from  the  desire   of  serving   you, 
partly  from  the  conviction  which  I  feel  of  the  very 
high  national  importance  of  a  work  which  has  so 
entirely  the  public  ear,  and  which  may  do  more  for 
sound    taste,  sound    principle,  and  sound  opinions, 
both  political  and  religious,  than  any  work  or  journal 
extant.     Perhaps  it  may  improve  in  your  hands  by 
a  more  decided  tone  on  certain  points  on  which   I 
believe  we  feel  together,  and  perhaps  by  a  little  less 
personality   than    it   has    occasionally    indulged   in. 
After  all  this,  shall  I  make  you  laugh  or  make  you 
angry  if  I  presume  to  insinuate  that  hitherto  general 
good    sense   without   paradox   has   been    the   chief 
cause  of  the  success  of  the  Review  ?    And  if  you  will 


iv.]  MR.   J.   G.    LOCKHART  79 

prove  "  Peter  Bell  "  and  "  Benjamin"  to  be  poetry, 
not  even  the  authority  of  the  Quarterly  will  enable 
you  to  prohibit  the  smile  which  the  greater  part,  and 
perhaps  not  the  least  read,  of  the  world  will  put  on. 
I  do  not  mean  to  assume  the  French  lady's  in- 
fallibility who  said,  "  II  n'y  a  que  moi  qui  a  toujours 
raison,"  but  I  am  pretty  sure  I  am  right  on  this 
point. 

After  little  more  than  a  year  Mr.  Coleridge, 
owing  to  the  rapid  increase  of  his  business  at  the 
Bar,  was  compelled  to  resign  his  position  as  editor  of 
the  Quarterly  ;  and  as  soon  as  the  new  arrangements  j 
could  be  carried  out,  Mr.  Lockhart  reigned  in  his  j 
stead.  Milman  and  Lockhart  were  contemporaries, 
and  had  taken  their  degree  in  the  same  year  at 
Oxford.  Their  early  acquaintance  soon  ripened 
into  a  friendship,  which  remained  unbroken  from 
the  time  that  Mr.  Lockhart  came  to  London  to 
take  up  his  appointment  as  editor,  till  his  death 
in  1854.  On  literary  projects  and  on  matters  con- 
nected with  the  Review  they  were  in  constant 
correspondence,  and  Mr.  Lockhart  seems  also  on 
several  occasions  to  have  served  as  the  channel  of 
communication  between  Mr.  John  Murray  and  my 
father,  when  the  former,  by  illness  or  from  press 
of  business,  was  glad  to  avail  himself  of  Lockhart's 
assistance. 

So  many  references  to  the  relation  between  these 
three  men  have  already  appeared  in  the  "  Memoir 
and  Correspondence  of  the  late  John  Murray,"  by 
Mr.  Smiles,  and  in  Mr.  Andrew  Lang's  "  Life  of  A 
J.  G.  Lockhart,"  that  further  to  dwell  upon  it  could 


80  A   FREQUENT   CONTRIBUTOR  [CHAP. 

not  but  involve  an  undesirable  repetition,  even 
though  some  additional  details  should  prove  in- 
teresting. On  one  point  only  a  final  word  may  be 
added.  My  father's  connection  with  the  Quarterly 
Review  was  not  a  secret  that,  even  if  desired,  could 
be  hidden  ;  and  being  himself  of  some  fame  as  a 
writer,  as  well  as  an  ardent  lover,  of  poetry,  it  was 
not  unnatural  that  articles  upon  contemporary  poets 
which  made  some  sensation  in  their  day  should 
have  been  attributed  to  his  pen.  "Who,"  asks 
Lord  Byron  : — 

"  Who  kill'd  John  Keats  ?  " 

"I,"  says  the  Quarterly, 

So  savage  and  Tartarly ; 
"  'Twas  one  of  my  feats." 

"Who  shot  the  arrow?" 
\  "The  poet-priest  Milman 

(So  ready  to  kill  man), 
Or  Southey,  or  Barrow." 

Whoever  else  shot  the  arrow,  certainly  Milman 
did  not ;  nor,  as  is  now  generally  allowed,  was 
Keats  killed  by  it.  There  was  a  similar  mis- 
leading speculation  as  to  the  authorship  of  the 
review  of  "  Alastor." 

The  article  on  "  Alastor  "  in  the  Quarterly  Review 
was  at  first  attributed  to  Southey  (whom  Shelley 
had  known  and  liked) ;  but  that  proved  untrue. 
|  It  was  then  imputed  to  Milman,  and  Shelley  de- 
nounced it  as  the  work  of  an  angry  priest.  Milman, 
with  admirable  magnanimity,  never  repelled  the 
charge,  though  in  fact  few  men  were  more  keenly 
alive  to  Shelley's  genius.  We  now  learn,  after  all, 
that  this  much-contested  article  was  the  work  of 


iv.]  MACAULAY'S   TOMAHAWK   STYLE  8 1 

Mr.  Coleridge — not  the  poet,  but  his  nephew, 
whom  we  have  all  known  in  calmer  times  as  the 
venerable,  amiable,  and  accomplished  Sir  John 
Taylor  Coleridge,  a  judge  and  a  Privy  Councillor.* 

There  was  indeed  a  sensitive  regard  for  the  feel- 
ings of  others  in  my  father's  disposition  which  would 
in  any  case  have  made  him  shrink  from  the  office 
of  critical  executioner,  and  he  expressed  more  than 
once  his  dislike  of  what  he  called  the  "  savage 
tomahawk  style"  of  Macaulay's  review  of  Robert  , 
Montgomery,  though  in  the  main  he  considered 
him  quite  right. 

The  less  you  have  to  do  [he  writes  to  Mr. 
Murray]  with  Mr.  Robert  Montgomery  the  better  : 
he  is  not  of  your  tribe  of  authors.  The  present 
poem  is  more  full  of  examples  of  the  Bathos  or  the 
Art  of  Sinking  in  Poetry  than  I  have  seen  for  some 
time ;  nor  is  there  any  real  genius,  in  my  opinion, 
to  redeem  it.  He  sometimes  lashes  himself  into 
bombast,  which  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  and  some 
of  his  critics  who  have  been  bepraising  him  think 
vastly  sublime.  I  dislike  the  savage  tomahawk 
style  of  Macaulay,  but  in  the  main  he  is  quite  in  /- 
the  right,  and  this  poor  youth's  talking  about 
11  assassins  "  and  other  such  hard  words  only  shows 
his  own  feebleness. 

But  if  what  is  sometimes  described  as  a  "  slash- 
ing article  "  was  abhorrent  to  his  nature,  no  induce- 
ment of  friendship  could  tempt  him  to  dishonest 
praise.  Pressed  by  his  friend  Harness  to  review 

*  Quoted  from  the  Edinburgh  Review,  vol.  clvi.,  p.  432, 

6 


82  CRITICAL   HONESTY  [CHAP. 

one  of  Miss   Mitford's  plays — Charles  /. — for  the 
-J       Quarterly,  he  answers,  July,  1834  : — 

I  have  taken  so  great  a  liking  to  Miss  Mitford, 
that  for  her  sake,  still  more,  much  more  as  your 
friend,  I  would  do  much  to  serve  her.  But  I  have 
read  the  play  twice  over,  and  really  cannot  see  how 
a  case  is  to  be  made  out  for  the  Quarterly.  It 
may  act  well ;  but  to  the  reader  it  is  so  pretty  and 
womanish,  so  far  below  the  magnificence  of  the 
subject,  that  it  would  do  her  more  harm  than  good 
to  attempt  to  praise  where  the  extracts  will  not 
justify.  I  cannot  write  excepting  when  I  am  really 
seriously  in  earnest  in  my  admiration.  This  critical 
honesty  stands  much  in  my  way,  but  it  is  a  part 
of  my  nature. 

In  later  life,  and  when  his  whole  time  was  oc- 
cupied by  the  Histories  of  Christianity,  contributions 
to  the  Review  became  more  rare.  His  articles 
embrace  a  wide  variety  of  matter,  critical,  literary, 
biographical,  historical.  Some  of  them,  of  course, 
deal  with  questions  and  books  of  passing  interest ; 
others  contain  sketches  of  persons  and  events  which 
were  afterwards  embodied  in  a  more  finished  state 
in  the  histories.  But  again,  towards  the  close  of  his 
life,  when  the  completion  of  the  "  History  of  Latin 
Christianity "  had  restored  him  to  comparative 
leisure,  he  took  pleasure  in  renewing  his  old  con- 
nection with  the  Review,  and  in  occasionally  writing 
essays  on  any  subject  in  which  he  happened  to  be 
particularly  interested.  A  selection  of  these  later 
articles,  with  the  addition  of  a  few  of  earlier  date, 
were  reprinted,  after  the  author's  death,  in  a  volume 


iv.]  "HISTORY  OF  THE  JEWS"  83 

with   the   title,    "  Savonarola,   Erasmus,  and   other 
Essays." 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  speak  of  the  "  History  of 
the  Jews,"  my  father's  first  historical  work,  without 
referring  to  the  tempest  of  disapprobation  with 
which  the  book  was  received  in  orthodox  circles 
on  its  first  appearance,  and  to  the  obloquy  with 
which  its  author  was  assailed.  But  this  part 
of  the  subject  may  be  dealt  with  all  the  more 
briefly  as  the  story  has  been  already  told  in  the 
"  Memoir  of  John  Murray,"  in  which  much  of 
the  correspondence  between  the  author  and  his 
publisher  is  also  given.  The  volumes  had  been 
written  as  part  of  the  Family  Library,  an  interest- 
ing and  useful  series  undertaken  by  Mr.  Murray 
for  reasons  which  are  partly  stated  in  a  letter  from 
Lockhart  to  Milman  (July  I7th,  1828),  inviting  his 
assistance,  at  the  request  of  Mr.  Murray,  in  carrying 
out  the  scheme  : — 

I  enclose  Mr.  Murray's  acknowledgment  of  your 
paper  in  the  last  Quarterly  Review.  Your  essay,  from 
all  I  have  heard,  is  a  favourite.  Mr.  Southey  says 
that  it  is  admirable  in  every  way.  You  have  seen, 
I  doubt  not,  the  biographies  and  histories  of  the 
Society  for  the  Propagation  of  Useful  Knowledge ; 
and  if  you  have,  you  must  agree  with  me  that  these 
diligent  gentlemen  are  making  a  paltry,  and  are 
desirous  of  making  a  dangerous,  invasion  on  the 
departments  of  public  instruction  which  will  ever 
be  the  most  attractive.  It  has  occurred  to  some 
people  of  another  way  of  thinking,  that  a  series  of 
cheap  volumes  of  biography  and  history,  written 
in  another  spirit,  but  very  calmly  and  temperately, 


84  THE   FAMILY   LIBRARY  [CHAP. 

might  be  of  great  benefit  to  those  who  cannot 
buy  expensive  treatises,  and  who  are  now  offered 
cheap  ones  by  Mr.  Brougham.  Arrangements  have 
already  made  some  progress.  Sir  W.  Scott,  Southey, 
Palgrave,  and  various  others  have  agreed  to  con- 
tribute their  aid,  and  I  now  write  to  ask  if  there  is 
any  chance  of  your  coming  into  the  scheme  likewise. 
What  say  you  to  a  volume  about  the  History  of  the 
Jewish  People  ?  Surely  it  might  be  made  more 
entertaining  than  any  romance,  and  really  useful 
besides.  This  is  what  Mr.  Murray  and  his  friends 
now  in  this  room  ask  me  to  propose  to  you ;  but 
any  subject  chosen  by  you,  whether  history  or 
biography,  would,  I  am  sure,  meet  all  their  wishes. 

And  then  follow  some  further  details  as  to  the 
terms  and  mode  of  publication.  The  proposal  was 
accepted,  and  my  father  was  for  some  months 
occupied  in  the  task  that  he  had  undertaken,  setting 
to  work  with  characteristic  energy,  but  with  some 
misgivings,  and  complaining  to  his  friend  Harness  of 
the  difficulty  which  he  found  in  dealing  with  the 
subject  exhaustively,  from  want  of  easy  access  to  a 
public  library. 

ST.  MARY'S,  July  i6/>&,  1829. 

I  really  am  at  work,  but  with  what  success  I 
scarcely  dare  anticipate.  Murray  asked  me  to  write 
the  "  History  of  the  Jews "  for  his  biographies. 
I  blindly  assented,  thinking  the  affair  very  plain 
and  straightforward ;  but  you  have  no  conception 
of  the  difficulty  of  finding  a  guide  or  authorities 
among  the  countless  writers  on  the  subject.  I  must 
confess  that  I  think  the  subject  has  been  fertile  in 
nonsense ;  but,  unhappily,  much  of  the  nonsense  is 
sainted  and  canonized,  and  I  suspect  wise  heads 


iv.]  LETTER   FROM   LOCKHART  85 

will  be  shaken  at  my  views.  Keep,  therefore,  my 
secret,  though  a  secret  in  Murray's  keeping  is  about 
as  safe  as  one  entrusted  to  that  worthy  and  sonorous 
person  the  town-crier.  .  .  .  To  return  to  my  Jews. 
The  subject  is  singularly  interesting  ;  but  it  is  difficult 
to  manage  either  that  or  my  Greek  Poetry,  which 
I  am  very  anxious  to  complete,  without  a  public 
library.  I  am  never  satisfied  till  I  get  to  the  bottom, 
and  sometimes  the  said  bottom  is  somewhere  beyond 
the  depths  of  our  knowledge,  and  sometimes  one 
comes  plump  upon  it  when  least  expected. 

The  first  instalment  of  the  work  was  ready  by  the 
end  of  the  year,  and  was  followed  at  no  long  interval 
by  the  remainder.  Writing  on  December  6th,  Mr. 
Lockhart  says  : — 

I  perceive  your  Jews  are  now  fast  approaching 
completion.  It  is  a  splendid  book,  but  some  wise 
folks  shake  their  heads  at  some  passages  touching 
miracles.  A  few  sentences  would  have  disarmed 
them,  and  will  no  doubt  do  so  in  the  next  edition. 
I  have  been  suggesting  to  Murray  that  your  most 
efficient  method  might  be  to  write  a  "  History  of 
Christianity "  in  the  same  form,  and  I  sincerely 
hope  you  will  smile  on  this  proposal.  But  the 
Quarterly  is  very  much  in  need  of  your  aid,  and 
that  must  be  my  chief  concern.  I  do  not  mean 
that  we  are  falling  off.  On  the  contrary,  Murray 
says  the  Review  has  now  regained  all  it  had  lost  at 
one  period.  But  we  are  in  danger  of  becoming  a 
little  too  businesslike,  and  want  grievously  the  grace 
from  time  to  time  of  a  pen  like  yours  discoursing 
eloquent  music. 

Heads  wise  or  unwise  had  indeed  been  shaken. 
A   wild  storm  of  disapproval  gathered,  burst,  and 


86  OUTCRY  AGAINST  THE   HISTORY        [CHAP. 

Sunday  after  Sunday  Milman  was  denounced  from 
University  and  other  pulpits  in  most  unmeasured 
language,  in  language  to  which  we  have  since  un- 
happily become  too  well  accustomed,  as  holding 
heretical  opinions,  as  a  most  dangerous  and  per- 
nicious writer.  Bishops,  some  of  whom  at  least 
had  at  first  been  favourable  and  friendly,  suddenly 
became  cold,  became  hostile,  averted  their  faces, 
lifted  up  their  hands.  If  even  now  we,  who 
live  in  times  so  changed,  feel  surprised,  as  my 
father  was  surprised,  by  this  wild  outcry,  it  must 
be  remembered  that  an  historical  or  a  scientific 
method  of  dealing  with  the  documentary  records 
of  religious  history  was  then  a  startling  novelty  to 
the  mass  of  pious  minds  in  England,  and  that  the 
"  History  of  the  Jews,"  to  use  the  words  of  Dean 
Stanley,* 

was  the  first  decisive  inroad  of  German  theology 
JL  into  England  :  the  first  palpable  indication  that  the 
Bible  could  be  studied  like  another  book ;  that  the 
characters  and  events  of  the  sacred  history  could 
be  treated  at  once  critically  and  reverently.  Those 
who  were  but  children  at  the  time  can  remember 
the  horror  created  in  remote  rural  districts  by  the 
rumour  that  a  book  had  appeared  in  which  Abraham 
was  described  as  a  "  sheikh.". 

The  bitterness  of  feeling  that  prevailed  in  some 
quarters  may  be  measured  by  this  extract  from  a 
^        letter  written  by  the  Rev.    H.  Drury,  one  of  the 
masters  at  Harrow,  to  Archdeacon  S.  Butler  f  : — 

*  "  Essays  on  Church  and  State,"  p.  576. 

t  "  Life  and  Letters  of  Dr.  Samuel  Butler,"  i.  361. 


iv.]  DENOUNCED   AS  AN   IMPIOUS   BOOK         87 

I  read  your  charge  with  great  delight ;  'twas 
exactly  what  I  should  have  liked  to  have  heard,  and 
to  have  seen  in  its  effects  on  the  sour  visages  of 
the  "  serious."  I  do  not  wonder  they  endeavoured 
to  resent  such  home  truths.  The  same  spirit  rages 
sadly  among  us.  I  had  introduced  Milman's  "  History 
of  the  Jews  "  to  read  with  Paley's  "  Evidences  "  every 
Sunday  morning.  I  found  it  gave  sacred  history 
and  geography  in  such  an  entertaining  manner  that 
it  riveted  the  attention  of  my  boys  surprisingly. 

This  is  daily  denounced  to  Longley  by  Mr. ,  as 

Cunningham's  mouthpiece,  as  "  an  impious  book," 
"a  gross  misrepresentation  of  the  Word  of  God," 
"an  attempt  to  introduce  German  scepticism,"  and 
what  not — of  all  which  Milman  is  as  innocent  as 
I  am,  and  he  has  had  the  highest  testimonials  of 
praise  and  thanks  from  the  first  members  of  the 
High  Church. 

The  general  attitude  of  this  party  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  following  letters,  written  at  the 
time  by  my  father  : — 

To  JOHN  MURRAY,  ESQ. 

ST.  MARY'S,  READING,  March  gth,  1830. 
The  measure  which  you  propose  [printing  extracts 
from  the  Family  Bible  and  the  History  in  parallel 
columns]  has,  as  you  may  conceive,  passed  through 
my  mind,  but  for  many  considerations  I  think  that 
it  would  be  highly  objectionable.  In  the  New 
Edition,  in  the  first  note  on  a  passage  relating 
to  a  miracle,  I  have  inserted  these  words  :  "  The 
author  finds  upon  reference  that  the  authorities 
quoted  by  the  learned  Editors  of  the  Family 
Bible  on  this  and  many  similar  points  concur 
with  his  own  view."  This  is  a  fair  warning,  but 
a  direct  attempt  to  divert  the  attack  by  bringing 
forward  the  Family  Bible  would  offend  many 


88  THE   HIGH   CHURCH   PARTY  [CHAP. 

persons  with  whom  I  do  not  wish  to  join  issue. 
As  yet  the  High  Church  party,  at  least  all  the 

~j  better  order,  have  stood  aloof.  The  fanatics  would 
like  nothing  better  than  to  have  an  opportunity 
of  turning  the  clamour  against  the  Family  Bible. 
They  hate  the  book ;  they  do  not  love  the  Christian 
Knowledge  Society,  and  would  be  delighted  to 
have  passages  pointed  out  on  which  they  might 
raise  an  outcry  as  they  have  against  me.  This 
would  exasperate  the  High  Church  party,  who 
might  think  it  necessary  to  take  part  against  me, 
though  holding  much  the  same  opinions.  At  all 
events,  such  a  measure  should  be  reserved  till 
actually  called  for.  I  am  greatly  mistaken  if  there 
is  not  a  strong  reaction  in  favour  of  the  book.  For 
my  own  part,  I  have  reconsidered  the  whole  subject ; 
I  have  corrected  the  few  points  on  which  I  have 
expressed  myself  somewhat  too  strongly  ;  and  am 
convinced,  not  merely  that  I  am  in  the  right,  but 
that  all  reasonable  persons  think  me  so,  and  that  the 
crowd  will  follow.  The  public  mind  cannot  go  back 
— it  will  go  on  ;  and  on  the  few  points  on  which  I 
have  advanced  beyond  it,  it  will  soon  catch  me  up. 
Religion  must  be  defended,  as  I  have  defended  it, 

A  and  as  (my  Preface  will  tell  them  this)  Paley  did  so 
before  me. 

And  writing  to  Mr.  Lockhart  on  the  2Qth  of  the 
same  month,  he  says  : — 

Now  for  those  ungracious  Jews.  I  should  be 
very  sorry  for  personal  reasons  to  be  attacked  by 
Benson,*  as  we  have  always  been  very  good  friends  ; 
but  I  might  be  in  much  more  formidable  hands — 
Le  Bas',  for  instance,  f  Benson  is  in  the  pulpit 

*  Rev.  Christopher  Benson,  Canon  ,of  Worcester  and  Master  of 
the  Temple. 

t  Rev.  Charles  Webb  Le  Bas,  Prebendary  of  Lincoln,  afterwards 
~\      Principal  of  the  East  Indian  College,  Haileybury. 


iv.]  DR.   GODFREY   FAUSSETT  89 

almost  unrivalled,  but  neither  strong  in  argument 
nor  learning.  I  have  received  an  intimation  from  a 
high  University  quarter  (not  intended,  I  believe,  to 
reach  me)  that  I  should  reply  to  Faussett.  I  have 
written  to  Oxford  to  know  what  the  feeling  is  there. 
I  suspect  I  shall  not  mend  the  matter  much  with 
the  High  Church  party ;  for  if  I  speak,  I  will  speak 
calmly,  but  speak  out.  If  I  am  at  a  discount  with 
the  Bishops,  I  am  not  with  the  booksellers.  I  have 
received  a  proposal  from  Dr.  Lardner ;  and,  really, 
he  offers  such  good  company  that  it  is  tempting.  I 
suppose  by  the  names  in  both  that  there  is  no 
rivalry  between  the  two  concerns.* 

At  his  own  University,  Oxford,  the  attack  had 
been  led  by  the  Margaret  Professor  of  Divinity,  Dr. 
Faussett,!  a  weak  antagonist  for  whom  my  father 
had  no  intention  of  breaking  the  dignified  rule  of 
silence  which,  secure  in  the  rectitude  of  his  in- 
tentions and  the  general  accuracy  of  his  views,  he 
had  adopted. 

You  will  perhaps  [he  writes  to  Mr.  Murray]  be 
anxious  to  know  my  opinion  upon  the  pamphlet 
you  have  sent  me  from  Godfrey  Faussett.  Probably 
you  have  sent  the  accompanying  sheets  of  the  first 
volume  in  case  I  should  wish  to  make  any  alteration. 

*  See  >?.?/,  p.  99. 

t  Mr.  Christopher  Earle  used  often  to  relate  how,  occupying  the 
box  seat  on  the  Oxford  and  Evesham  coach  on  a  Monday  morning 
after  one  of  Dr.  Faussett' s  sermons  on  the  Sunday,  the  coachman 
turned  to  him  and  said,  "I  hope,  sir,  you  were  at  the  University 
sermon  yesterday";  and  how,  when  he  had  pleaded  his  inability 
to  get  there,  Jehu  said,  "  Oh,  sir,  what  a  pity  !  Dr.  Faussett  was 
great,  sir.  He  did  give  it  that  Mr.  Milman.  He  said,  sit—and  I 
am  sure  it  is  true — that  '  since  the  days  of  Julian  the  Apostate 
there  has  not  risen  a  greater  enemy  to  Christianity  than  Mr. 
Milman.' " 


90          THE   LANGUAGE   OF  THE  COUNTRY     [CHAP. 

The  sermon  is  feeble — for  a  man  in  his  situation 
miserably  so.  I  always  expressed  myself  as  having 
a  very  mean  estimate  of  his  abilities,  and  am  only 
confirmed  in  my  judgment.  He  has  barely  noticed 
the  more  vulnerable  points  of  the  work,  and  huddled 
them  up  with  others  where  he  is  so  palpably  ignorant, 
that  I  should  think  he  will  hardly  make  any  im- 
pression even  among  the  undergraduates  at  Oxford. 
To  these  undergraduates  I  shall  leave  him,  and  not 
take  the  slightest  notice  of  his  lucubrations.  I 
should  not  wonder  if  some  of  that  wicked  tribe 
should  amuse  themselves  by  a  reply,  to  which  many 
of  them  would  be  fully  equal.  I  am  only  anxious 
that  the  first  volume  should  reappear  as  speedily 
as  possible.  I  have  altered  every  point  on  which 
men  of  sense  could  fix  an  objection.  For  such 
objections  as  the  greater  part  of  this  worthy's, 
the  quiet  reference  to  the  Family  Bible  will  be 
rather  a  damper.  It  is  really  deplorable  that  a  man 
in  his  situation  should  be  so  miserably  ignorant  as 
to  the  state  of  Biblical  criticism.  Half  the  points 
on  which  he  attacks  me  have  been  settled  by  most 
men  of  learning  for  a  century. 

As  to  the  virulence  of  Dr.  Faussett's  language, 
the  editor  of  Gibbon  may  have  felt  as  did  Gibbon 
himself,  who  fifty  years  earlier,  alluding  to  a  sermon 
by  Dr.  White,  Professor  of  Hebrew,  preached  in 
the  pulpit  of  St.  Mary's,  says  : — 

If  he  assaults  me  with  some  degree  of  illiberal 
acrimony  in  such  a  place  and  before  such  an 
audience,  "he  was  obliged  to  speak  the  language  of 
the  country." 

A  pertinent  saying  of  Professor  Agassiz  is  quoted 
by  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  which,  though  uttered  in 


iv.]  AN   AMERICAN   HISTORIAN  9 1 

relation  to  the  discovery  of  new  facts  in  science,  is 
not  the  less  applicable  where  methods  of  dealing 
with  the  origin  and  growth  of  religions  are  employed 
more  scientific  than  those  to  which  ordinary  readers 
have  been  accustomed.  First  they  say  "  it  is  not 
true  "  ;  then,  that  it  is  "  contrary  to  religion  "  ;  and 
at  last,  that  "  every  one  knew  it  before."  We  are 
slowly  approaching  the  final  stage,  and  many  views 
of  religious  history  which  fifty  years  ago  would 
have  roused  a  bitter  controversy  are  now  accepted 
without  question.  My  father  shared  the  common 
fate  of  almost  all  pioneers  in  a  new  country — of  all 
whose  writings  are  in  advance  of  the  average 
thought  of  their  age ;  but  time  does  justice,  and 
under  the  circumstances  I  may  perhaps  be  permitted 
to  cite  the  judgment  of  a  recent  American  historian, 
Mr.  Andrew  Dickson  White,  who  in  a  very  re- 
markable work,  "  History  of  the  Warfare  of  Science  /- 
and  Theology,"  thus  refers  to  the  subject.  After 
explaining  how  the  place  of  myth  in  history  became 
more  and  more  understood,  and  how  historical 
foundations,  so  far  at  least  as  secular  history  was 
concerned,  were  henceforth  dealt  with  in  a  scientific 
spirit,  he  continues  : — 

The  extension  of  this  new  treatment  to  all  ancient 
literature  and  history  was  now  simply  a  work  of 
time. 

And  he  adds  : — 

Such    an   extension   had   already   begun,    for   in 
1829  had  appeared  Milman's  "  History  of  the  Jews.'* 


92    WARFARE   OF   SCIENCE   AND   THEOLOGY   [CHAP. 

In  this  work  came  a  further  evolution  of  the  truths 
and  methods  suggested  by  Bentley,  Wolf,  and 
Niebuhr,  and  their  application  to  sacred  history 
was  made  strikingly  evident.  Milman,  though  a 
clergyman,  treated  the  history  of  the  chosen  people 
in  the  light  of  modern  knowledge  of  Oriental  and 
especially  of  Semitic  peoples.  He  exhibited  sundry 
great  Biblical  personages  of  the  wandering  days 
of  Israel  as  sheikhs  or  emirs  or  Bedouin  chieftains, 
and  the  tribes  of  Israel  as  obedient  then  to  the 
same  general  laws,  customs,  and  ideas  governing 
wandering  tribes  in  the  same  region  now.  He 
dealt  with  conflicting  sources  somewhat  in  the  spirit 
of  Bentley,  and  with  the  mythical,  legendary,  and 
miraculous  somewhat  in  the  spirit  of  Niebuhr. 
This  treatment  of  the  history  of  the  Jews,  simply 
as  the  development  of  an  Oriental  tribe,  raised  great 
opposition.  Such  champions  of  orthodoxy  as  Bishop 
Mant  and  Dr.  Faussett  straightway  took  the  field, 
and  with  such  effect  that  the  Family  Library,  a 
very  valuable  series  in  which  Milman's  history 
appeared,  was  put  under  the  ban  and  its  further 
publication  stopped.  For  years  Milman,  though 
a  man  of  exquisite  literary  and  lofty  historical  gifts, 
as  well  as  of  most  honourable  character,  was 
debarred  from  preferment  and  outstripped  by 
ecclesiastics  vastly  inferior  to  him  in  everything 
save  worldly  wisdom  ;  for  years  he  was  passed  in 
the  race  for  honours  by  divines  who  were  content 
either  to  hold  briefs  for  all  the  contemporary 
unreason  which  happened  to  be  popular  or  to  keep 
their  mouths  shut  altogether.  This  opposition  to 
him  extended  to  his  works  ;  for  many  years  they 
were  sneered  at,  decried,  and  kept  from  the  public 
as  far  as  possible.  Fortunately  the  progress  of 
events  lifted  him  before  the  closing  years  of  his 
life  above  all  this  opposition.  As  Dean  of  St. 
Paul's  he  really  outranked  the  contemporary  Arch- 


iv.]  THIRTY   YEARS  AFTER  93 

bishops  ;  he  lived  to  see  his  main  ideas  accepted, 
and  his  "  History  of  Latin  Christianity"  received  as 
certainly  one  of  the  most  valuable  and  no  less 
certainly  the  most  attractive  of  all  Church  histories 
ever  written. 

After  an  interval  of  more  than  thirty  years,  Dean 
Milman  was  requested  and  urged  to  publish  a  new 
edition  of  the  "  History  of  the  Jews."  It  was  nearly 
ready,  but  not  yet  published,  when  the  following 
letter  was  written  : — 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S,  December  zgtk,  1862. 

MY  DEAR  ARTHUR  STANLEY, — 

I  have  galloped  through  your  book.*  Accept  , 
my  best  thanks  for  it.  I  must  amble  through  it 
more  leisurely  hereafter,  and  delight  myself  with 
its  pleasant,  if  winding  and  wandering,  paths.  Let 
me  first  say  with  what  deep  and  sincere  sympathy 
I  dwelt  on  the  first  pages.  Nothing  can  be  more 
simple,  true,  or  touching. 

Than  what  you  write  of  me  nothing  can  be  more 
gratifying.  It  is  a  singular  coincidence,  but  some 
one,  I  think  old  Parker  the  bookseller,  said  of  the 
"History  of  the  Jews"  :  "  It  has  appeared  thirty 
years  too  soon."  It  was  published  in  1829  or  1830. 
Oxford  professors  then  preached  in  St.  Mary's 
against  it,  and  now  one  Oxford  professor  at  least 
speaks  in  a  very  different  tone.  I  think  I  may 
say  that,  except  perhaps  on  one  point,  our  opinions 
are  as  nearly  coincident  as  may  be.  Mine  are  in 
the  block,  rarely  wrought  out ;  for  my  book  pretends 
to  be  a  history.  Your  form  of  lectures  gives  you 
the  full  privilege  of  discursiveness  (do  not  abuse 
your  privilege !).  You  have  also  the  advantage  of 
being  able  to  elude  discussions  of  peculiar  difficulty 

*  "  Lectures  on  the  Jewish  Church." 


94  A   NEW  EDITION  [CHAP. 

and  requiring  that  delicacy  of  handling  which  hardly 
escapes  timidity.  In  the  notes  to  the  book,  rarely 
in  the  text,  I  have  boldly  faced  many  of  these 
difficulties,  and  in  the  Preface,  as  it  is  now  written, 
shall  speak  out  my  mind.  I  think,  if  it  is  taken  in  a 
right  spirit,  what  I  say  may  do  good.  At  all  events, 
it  is,  if  not  positive,  anti-negative.  But  the  book 
itself,  as  far  as  the  early  history  is  concerned,  is  hardly 
increased  in  bulk.  The  field  is  entirely  open  to  you. 
The  large  additions  (and  I  have  been  obliged  to 
limit  them)  are  to  the  modern  history.  In  your 
own  realm,  the  geographical  or  topographical,  which 
will  not  be  the  least  popular,  you  rule  alone.  I 
have  done  nothing,  I  think,  beyond  references  to 
Robinson  and  you.  I  wonder  whether  the  general 
reader  will  be  more  delighted  or  bewildered  (some 
will  delight  in  being  bewildered ;  the  stiff  old  school 
will  be  more  impatient)  by  your  extraordinary 
affluence  and  prodigality  of  illustration  ?  The  one 
point  on  which  I  disagree  and  rather  regret  is  the 
manner  in  which  you  treat  the  subject  on  which 
you  quote  Carlyle.  Generally  speaking,  I  like  my 
own  better.  As  for  Carlyle,  nothing  seems  now 
to  remain  of  the  old  Presbyterian  youth  but  some 
of  the  Balfour  of  Burley.  His  worship  is  exclusively 
that  of  the  old  ^schylean  /cparos  KOL  fiCa.  Even 
excellent  Arnold  had  too  much  of  the  stern  Puritan 
for  me.  Is  it  not  enough  that  the  Jews  were 
barbarians,  and  God  made  them  no  more  premature 
Christians  than  premature  astronomers  ? 

The  principal  additions  to  the  new  edition  were, 
as  has  been  indicated,  to  the  modern  history ;  but 
the  substance  of  the  original  work  was  little  affected 
by  these  additions  and  the  general  revision  to  which 
it  was  submitted.  The  views  adopted  by  the  author 
in  early  days — that  the  only  documents  on  which 


iv.]         THE  AUTHOR'S  VIEWS  UNCHANGED  95 

the  earlier  history  of  the  Jews  rests,  the  Scriptures  of 
the  Old  Testament,  must,  like  other  historical  docu- 
ments, be  submitted  to  calm  but  searching  criticism 
as  to  their  age,  their  authenticity,  their  authorship, 
above  all  their  historical  sense  and  historical  inter- 
pretation— he  still  maintained. 

These  views  [he  writes  in  the  admirable  Preface] 
— more  free,  it  was  then  thought,  and  bolder  than 
common,  he  dares  to  say  not  irreverent — have  been 
his  safeguard  during  a  long  and  not  unreflective  life 
against  the  difficulties  arising  out  of  the  philosophical 
and  historical  researches  of  our  times  ;  and  from 
such  views  many,  very  many,  of  the  best  and  wisest 
men  whom  it  has  been  his  blessing  to  know  with 
greater  or  less  intimacy  have  felt  relief  from  pressing 
doubts,  and  found  that  peace  which  is  attainable  only 
through  perfect  freedom  of  mind.  Others  may  have 
the  happiness  (a  happiness  he  envies  not)  to  close 
their  eyes  against,  to  evade,  or  to  elude  these  diffi- 
culties. Such  is  not  the  temper  of  his  mind.  With 
these  views  he  has  been  able  to  follow  out  all  the 
marvellous  discoveries  of  science,  and  all  those 
hardly  less  marvellous,  if  less  certain,  conclusions  of 
historical,  ethnological,  linguistic  criticism,  in  the 
serene  confidence  that  they  are  utterly  irrelevant 
to  the  truth  of  Christianity,  to  the  truth  of  the 
Old  Testament,  as  far  as  its  distinct  and  perpetual 
authority  and  its  indubitable  meaning. 

It  is  curious  and  instructive  to  observe  the 
progress  that  had  been  made  during  the  interval 
that  elapsed  between  the  two  editions.  When  the 
revised  and  extended  edition  appeared,  no  hostile 
criticism  had  to  be  encountered,  no  attempt  was 
made  to  revive  the  worn-out  indignation  of  former 


96          SERMON   ON   "HEBREW  PROPHECY"     [CHAP. 

days.  On  the  contrary,  he  who  had  once  been  so 
harshly,  so  bitterly,  denounced  from  the  pulpit  of 
his  own  University  was  now  requested,  even  pressed, 
to  occupy  that  very  pulpit  and  to  preach  from  it  in 
1865  the  annual  sermon  on  "Hebrew  Prophecy,"  the 
very  subject  which  had  once  brought  down  upon 
him  the  "  thunders  of  academic  theologians."  No 
thought  of  bitterness  found  a  place  in  his  mind. 
He  was,  as  Dean  Stanley  has  written,  and  as  the 
writer  of  these  lines  can  confirm,  absorbed  by  far 
other  thoughts  :  by  the  kindness  of  the  feeling  which 
prompted  the  request,  and  by  the  gravity  of  the 
occasion  on  which  he  spoke  ;  conscious,  too,  that  it 
was  his  last  message  to  the  University  that  he  had 
loved,  his  last  charge  to  the  coming  generation  on 
the  trials  and  difficulties  that  were  before  them. 
The  profound  impression  created  by  the  sermon  is 
thus  described  by  Dean  Stanley  in  a  letter  written  to 
Lady  Augusta  Stanley  immediately  afterwards  : — 

The  Dean's  sermon  is  over.  It  was  well  worth 
coming  to  hear  and  see.  The  old  sage  put  forth  all 
his  powers ;  and  although  it  was  la  voix  qui  louche, 
it  was  just  audible,  and  the  intense  stillness  of  the 
hearers  gave  it  every  advantage.  It  was  on  the 
characteristic  of  prophecy,  by  neglect  of  which  the 
Jews  rejected  our  Lord,  and  by  which  we  might 
reject  Him  also — full  of  learning,  pathos,  and  elo- 
quence. It  lasted  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes,  and 
he  was  quite  exhausted  by  the  effort,  but  is  recovered 
now,  and  very  much  relieved  to  have  delivered  his 
parting  testimony.  There  was  something  quite 
sublime  in  the  curious  way  in  which  from  time  to 
time  his  fine  old  face  was  lit  up  or  darkened  with 


iv.]          DEAN   STANLEY  AND   MAX  MULLER  97 

the  eagerness  of  hope  or  the  solemnity  of  rebuke.. 
Every  topic  of  modern  interest  was  touched,  and! 
touched  in  the  most  convincing  and  masterly  manner.. 
It  will  be  printed  immediately. 

I  listened  [wrote  Mr.  Max  Mliller]  to  your  sermon 
on  Jewish  Prophecy  with  great  delight,  but  I  shall 
read  it  again  with  even  deeper  interest.  If  one 
thinks,  how  that  pulpit  of  St.  Mary's  might  shine 
like  a  beacon  in  the  world,  and  how  little  it  fulfils 
that  purpose !  However,  I  shall  count  it  as  one  of 
my  historical  recollections  of  England  to  have  seen 
and  heard  you  in  that  place. 

And  the  impression  made  by  this  sermon,  as  upon 
a  veteran  of  literature,  so  upon  the  ingenuous  mind 
of  a  student,  young  indeed,  but  of  good  scholarship 
and  unusual  literary  taste,  is  thus  expressed  : — 

The  sermon  on  Hebrew  Prophecy  seems  to  be 
the  utterance  of  a  true  prophet-poet,  who  sees  deep 
into  the  soul  of  things  and  faces  intellectual  diffi- 
culties with  a  strong  heart,  earnestly  believing  in 
the  good  that  lives  and  works  through  all  things, 
and  which  ever  reveals  itself  to  .the  sincere  and  pure- 
minded  of  men.  To  see  an  old  man  of  such  ability 
so  hopeful  and  confident  that  the  world's  knowledge 
of  God  and  Christ  will  evermore  expand  and  develop 
with  the  unfoldings  of  scientific  truths  and  the  upward 
growth  of  civilisation  is  encouraging  in  the  highest 
degree  to  the  young  and  feeble  student  of  God's 
great  mysteries,  whose  heart,  by  reason  of  ignorance 
and  inexperience,  is  ever  wavering  between  wild 
hope  and  blank,  unutterable  despair. 

It  had  occurred  to  Mr.  Lockhart  that  the  most 
efficient  method  of  answering  those  who  objected 

7 


98  "HISTORY  OF  CHRISTIANITY"  COMMENCED  [CHAP. 

to  the  "  History  of  the  Jews"  would  be  to  write  a 
"  History  of  Christianity,"  and  this  had  been  my 
father's  own  conclusion,  though  for  a  moment  he 
may  have  hesitated  before  braving  another  storm. 

I  have  begun  [he  writes  to  Mr.  Harness, 
IFebruary  loth,  1831]  a  "  History  of  Christianity  "  for 
;the  Family  Library,  but  whether  I  shall  continue 
in  defiance  of  episcopal  fagotry  and  such  incendiary 
proceedings  I  have  scarcely  determined.  However, 

I  suppose  in  these  regenerating  times  Bishops  will 
not  last  long.     How  many  of  them   must  put  on 
-their  wigs  the  wrong  way,  in  trembling  anticipation 
€>f  the  approaching  crisis ! 

And  to  Mr.  Lockhart  on  August  I2th  : — 

I  have  been  seriously  attempting  a  first  volume  of 

II  Christianity,"  with  a  Life  of  Christ.     My  motto 
from  Villemain's  Lectures  :  "  II  faut  £tre  ennuyeux 
puisque  cela  est  plus  orthodoxe." 

The  "  History  of  Christianity  "  did  not,  however, 
appear  in  the  Family  Library,  nor  was  it  completed 
or  published  till  1840.  If  the  discontinuance  of  the 
Family  Library  had  been  mainly,  if  not  entirely,  due 
to  the  suspicions  with  which  the  series  came  to  be 
regarded  after  the  appearance  of  the  (<  History  of 
the  Jews  "  amongst  its  volumes,  it  is  clear  that  Mr. 
Murray  had  no  thought  of  throwing  over  its  author, 
or  of  being  frightened  by  popular  clamour  into 
losing  the  assistance  of  a  writer  whose  services  he 
so  highly  valued.  Dr.  Lardner  had  made  some 
overtures  to  Mr.  Milman  to  become  a  contributor  to 
his  "  Cyclopaedia,"  upon,  so  far  as  remuneration  was 


iv.]  DR.    LARDNER  99 

concerned,  apparently  very  advantageous  terms  ;  on 
which  Mr.  Lockhart,  whom  my  father  consulted, 
writes,  1830 : — 

I  have  just  read  to  Murray  what  you  say  about 
"  Christianity  "  and  Dr.  Lardner.  He  is  confined 
with  something  in  his  foot — he  denies  gout — and  is 
in  great  pain ;  but  he  asked  me  to  say  that  he  is 
most  ready  to  engage  for  "  Christianity,"  no  matter 
how  many  volumes  ;  that  he  will,  moreover,  pledge 
himself  to  accept  as  many  books  as  you  like  to  write 
for  the  Family  Library  as  long  as  that  work  goes  on, 
and  to  pay  for  them  at  the  highest  rate  which  any 
such  work  can  offer  ;  in  short,  that  he  hopes  you 
will  not  lend  your  aid  to  Dr.  Lardner,  as  Scott 
and  Southey  have  both  done  through  sheer  mis- 
apprehension, and  as  neither  of  them  accordingly 
will  do  again. 

It  had  been  originally,  no  doubt,  intended  that  the 
"  History  of  Christianity"  should  be  issued  volume 
by  volume  in  the  series,  and  the  first  instalment 
of  it  containing  the  Life  of  Christ  had  been,  it  may 
be  inferred,  forwarded  to  the  publisher  as  early  as 
1832  ;  for  my  father,  writing  on  August  24th  of 
that  year  to  Mr.  Murray,  says  : — 

My  own  opinion  about  the  "  History  of 
Christianity "  is  that  it  is  not  liable  to  the  only 
objection,  the  assigning  the  secondary  causes  of 
the  miracles,  which  was  put  in  anything  like  a 
tangible  shape  against  the  "  History  of  the  Jews." 
I  feel  myself  convinced  that  there  is  nothing  which 
ought  to  offend  either  a  man  of  sense  or  a  reason- 
able and  candid  Christian.  Still,  there  may  be,  in  this 
age  of  ignorance  and  presumption  on  such  subjects, 


100  LETTER  TO   MR,    MURRAY  [CHAP. 

many  who  may  be  startled  by  any  original  thought  or 
even  expression,  or  by  what  maybe  new  to  them.  And 
it  may  be  worth  my  while  to  go  over  the  whole  once 
more  and  reconsider  its  bearings,  as,  though  I  will 
alter  no  one  point  of  importance  which  I  consider 
to  be  just  and  true,  I  do  not  want  to  give  offence 
where  no  end  is  to  be  obtained.  My  own  present 
feeling  is  that,  by  explaining  the  real  point  of  view 
from  which  the  history  is  written,  it  will  with  all 
sober  persons  not  merely  vindicate  itself,  but  show 
the  suspicions  of  the  former  work  to  have  been 
utterly  groundless.  In  fact,  I  will  engage  to  assert 
that  no  proof  of  the  authenticity  and  antiquity  of 
the  New  Testament  has  been  adduced  more  con- 
vincing than  the  accordance  with  the  history  of  the 
times  and  the  manners  and  characters  of  the  people 
which  everywhere  appears  in  the  present  work. 

It  was  perhaps  as  well  that  the  "  History  of 
Christianity  "  was  freed  from  the  conditions  of  time 
and  space  which  would  have  been  imposed  upon  it 
as  a  portion  of  the  Family  Library.  The  "  History 
of  Christianity  from  the  Birth  of  Christ  to  the 
Abolition  of  Paganism  in  the  Roman  Empire  "  did 
not  appear  as  an  independent  publication  until  eight 
years  afterwards,  and  its  value  cannot  but  have  been 
enhanced  by  the  additional  years  of  labour  and 
research  which  were  devoted  to  its  completion.  A 
few  words  as  to  its  reception  will  find  their  place 
a  little  later  on. 

Concurrently  with  his  other  avocations  my  father 

had   for   some   years    been    engaged    in    collecting 

4     material    for   an    annotated    edition    of  Gibbon,    a 

work    which  originated    in    his   habit  of  noting  on 


iv.]  EDITION  OF  GIBBON 


the  margin  of  his  copy  of  the  "  Decline  and  Fall 
of  the  Roman  Empire  "  references  to  such  authors 
as  had  discovered  errors  or  thrown  new  light  on 
the  subjects  treated  by  Gibbon.  Mr.  Harness  had 
thought  that  such  an  edition  as  he  believed  to  be 
contemplated  might  appear  under  the  auspices  of 
the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge  ; 
but  the  answer  to  this  suggestion  was  decisive  :  — 

You  may  depend  upon  it  that  no  edition  of 
Gibbon,  however  neutralized  by  annotations,  will  be 
ventured  on  by  the  S.P.C.K.  Nothing  but  the 
most  merciless  castration  will  bring  him  within  their 
notions  of  safety  and  propriety  ;  and  if  I  go  on  with 
my  edition,  not  one  word  of  Gibbon  is  to  be 
omitted,  —  besides  that,  I  intend  it  for  a  scholarlike 
as  well  as  a  Christianized  work,  and  shall  be  at 
some  pains  to  bring  it  up  to  the  present  state  of 
research  in  all  points. 

His  deliberate  judgment  upon  the  magnificence 
and  general  accuracy  of  Gibbon's  history  could  only 
be  expressed  in  terms  of  the  highest  admiration,  and 
he  would  have  repudiated  any  proposal  to  tamper 
with  the  text. 

Who  [he  asks]  would  obscure  one  hue  of  that 
gorgeous  colouring  in  which  Gibbon  has  invested 
the  dying  forms  of  Paganism,  or  darken  one  para- 
graph in  his  splendid  view  of  the  rise  and  progress 
of  Mahometanism  ?  But  who  would  not  have  wished 
that  the  same  equal  justice  had  been  done  to 
Christianity  ;  that  its  real  character  and  deeply 
penetrating  influence  had  been  traced  with  the  same 
philosophical  sagacity,  and  represented  with  more 


102  'LIFE   OF   GIBBON"  [CHAP. 

sober,  as  would  become  its  quiet  course,  and  perhaps 
less  picturesque,  but  still  with  lively  and  attractive 
descriptiveness  ? 

The  edition,  which  incorporated  a  large  proportion 
M.  Guizot's  notes  to  the  French  translation,  was, 
-/  with  a  supplementary  volume  containing  the  "  Life 
and  Correspondence  of  Edward  Gibbon,"  published 
in  1839  by  Mr.  Murray,  and  long  held  its  place  as 
the  standard  edition  of  the  "  Decline  and  Fall  of  the 
Roman  Empire." 


v.]  ENGAGEMENTS  AT   OXFORD  103 


CHAPTER  V. 

Letters  from  Oxford — Dropmore — Bampton  Lecturer — Commemora- 
tion, 1827— Catholic  Relief  Bill— The  Oxford  Election— Peel 
rejected — Dinner  at  Mr.  John  Murray's — Letters  from  Mrs. 
Hemans  and  Mrs.  Opie  —  Rector  of  St.  Margaret's  and 
Prebendary  of  Westminster. 

AS  time  went  on  the  demands  upon  my  father's 
time  occasioned  by  his  Oxford  engagements 
seem  to  have  become  somewhat  wearisome,  though 
he  would  have  been  reluctant  to  give  up  the 
opportunities  afforded  by  these  engagements  of 
keeping  in  touch  with  old  friends. 

My  Oxford  avocations  [he  says,  writing  in  1831] 
rather  interfere  with  my  plans,  but  still  I  shall 
hope  to  continue  them  so  as  to  reconcile  both. 
I  cannot  say  but  that  I  am  rather  tired  of  my 
journeys  to  that  place  several  times  a  year,  except 
that  I  see  a  few  friends  for  whom  I  have  a  great 
regard,  and  consult  books  in  the  Bodleian  which 
I  cannot  obtain  elsewhere.  The  former  part  I 
shall  much  regret  when  my  professorship  ceases, 
as  cease  it  must  next  year.  For  it  is  one  of  the 
few  drawbacks  upon  a  settled  life  that  we  lose 
sight  so  much  of  old  and  valued  friends  :  people 
must  be  near  to  be  very  intimate,  and  perhaps  very 
intimate  friendships  must  begin  in  youth. 

A  few  extracts  from  letters  written  to  my  mother 


104  LORD  GRENVILLE  [CHAP. 

during  these  occasional  absences  from  home  may 
be  given.  But  my  father's  letters  then  and  always 
were  so  familiar,  so  easy,  so  exclusively  intended 
for  those  to  whom  they  were  addressed,  that  they 
can  only  be  used  with  much  reserve,  and  where 
the  allusions  to  events  and  persons  which  may 
still  be  of  some  general  interest  can  be  separated 
from  those  of  more  private  concern.  For  in  the 
words  of  one  of  the  greatest  of  letter-writers, 
"  Quam  multa  joca  solent  esse  in  epistolis  quae, 
prolata  si  sint,  inepta  videantur  :  quam  multa  seria 
neque  tamen  ullo  modo  divulganda."  * 

The  interest  which  Lord  Grenville  had  expressed 
in  my  father's  career  when  he  was  carrying  off 
prize  after  prize  at  Oxford  has  already  been  re- 
ferred to,  and  the  same  friendly  interest  was 
maintained  as  the  promise  of  the  young  man  was 
justified  by  his  later  works.  My  father  was,  I 
believe,  a  not  unfrequent  visitor  at  Dropmore,  and 
a  reminiscence  of  the  retired  statesman  is  contained 
in  the  following  letter  : — 

DROPMORE,  June  2%th,  1826. 

Really  the  calm  and  beauty  of  this  place,  after 
the  turmoil  and  disagreeable  agitations  of  Reading, 
appear  quite  refreshing.  .  .  .  The  house,  as  I 
thought  before,  is  better  arranged  and  the  estab- 
lishment in  more  perfect  order  than  any  I  ever 
saw.  We  meet  at  breakfast,  after  which  Lord 
Grenville  retires  to  his  private  room,  and  I  have 
the  range  of  a  most  excellent  library,  where,  of 
course,  I  find  occupation  enough.  Lady  Grenville 

*  Cicero,  2  Phil.,  c.  4. 


v.j  DROPMORE  105 

betakes  herself  to  her  garden  and  improvements, 
which  entirely  occupy  her.  The  garden  and 
grounds  are  lovely — made  entirely  by  themselves  ; 
indeed,  the  greater  part  of  the  land  was  a  few  years 
ago  a  heath  and  barren  common,  but  is  now 
covered  with  trees  of  all  sorts,  admirably  scattered 
about.  I  should  have  been  a  little  earlier,  as  the 
rhododendrons  which  abound  in  all  parts  are  now 
out  of  bloom.  I  have  seen,  especially  at  White 
Knights,  more  rare  shrubs  and  flowers,  but  the 
whole  arrangement  of  the  place  displays  the  greatest 
taste.  We  meet  a  little  before  an  early  dinner. 
The  first  day  Mr.  Neville,  his  wife,  Lady  Charlotte, 
and  Lady  Glyn,  his  sister,  were  here  from  Billing- 
bear.  Yesterday  we  were  alone,  and  his  Lordship 
and  I  discussed  literature  and  history  in  a  manner 
to  me  peculiarly  interesting  and  delightful.  The 
first  night  we  walked  from  dinner-time  till  late  in 
the  evening ;  but  the  damp  of  last  night  made  him 
have  recourse — as  the  gout  has  still  left  him  weak 
in  the  ankles — to  the  garden-chair. 

And  after  returning  to  Reading : — 

I  brought  away  a  beautiful  rare  honeysuckle 
and  a  book  of  Latin  poems  privately  printed  by 
his  Lordship  as  a  present.  I  saw  the  storm  from 
the  brow  of  Dropmore  Hill  in  great  magnificence, 
more  especially  over  Windsor.  I  discovered  a 
great  smoke,  the  cause  of  which  we  could  not 
make  out ;  but  it  turns  out  by  to-day's  papers  to 
have  been  part  of  the  Christopher  Inn  at  Eton, 
which  was  set  on  fire  by  the  lightning. 

The  next  miscellaneous  excerpts,  some  of  which 
can  only  be  approximately  dated,  may  be  intro- 
duced with  little  or  no  preface. 


106  BLANCO   WHITE  [CHAP,. 

OXFORD,  1826. 

The  only  occurrence,  I  think,  has  been  my 
introduction  to  Blanco  White,  the  Spanish  Roman 
Catholic  convert,  whose  memoirs  you  read.  He 
is  residing  here,  and  intends,  I  believe,  to  end 
his  days  in  Oxford.  He  is  remarkably  intelligent, 
and  his  conversation  peculiarly  prepossessing.  He 
expresses  himself  with  force  and  fluency,  such  as 
one  rarely  hears  from  a  native  Englishman,  with 
the  slightest  tinge  of  foreign  accent.  In  short, 
the  dinner  yesterday  at  Cardwell's  *  was  one  of  the 
most  agreeable  I  was  ever  present  at  in  Oxford, 
or  indeed  in  any  place  where  the  whole  party 
consisted  of  he-men.  I  am  very  busy  in  the 
morning  in  the  Bodleian,  where  I  find  almost  all 
the  books  that  I  want,  and  am  hard  at  work  making 
my  extracts.  The  general  report  in  Oxford  is  that 
Chandler  is  to  be  the  new  Bishop  of  Calcutta ;  but 
Lloyd,  the  Regius  Professor,  with  whom  I  have 
just  been,  does  not  think  it  has  been  offered  to 
him.  He  is,  I  think,  likely  to  be  behind  the 
curtains  upon  the  subject.  He  asked  me  whether 
I  would  go  if  the  offer  was  made.  I  did  not  give 
a  favourable  reply  ;  for  even  though  it  would  be 
no  discredit  to  have  the  situation  offered,  even  if 
declined,  I  did  not  care  to  fish  for  an  offer. 

The  Bampton  Lectures  on  "  The  Character  and 
Conduct  of  the  Apostles  as  an  Evidence  of 
Christianity  "  were  now  in  the  course  of  delivery. 

B.  N.  C,  OXFORD,  March,  1827. 

As  far  as  I  can  judge,  the  lecture  went  off  quite 
as  well  as  I  could  wish,  and  better  than  I  anticipated. 
The  graver  part  of  the  University  appear  highly 
to  approve,  the  younger  to  be  strongly  impressed. 
The  church  could  not  well  be  more  full  ;  and  if 

*  Rev.  Edward  Cardwell,  M.A.,  D.D.,  B.  N.  C. ;  Camden  Professor 
of  Ancient  History,  1825-61;  Principal  of  St.  Alban's  Hall,  1831-61. 


v.j  BAMPTON   LECTURES  107 

undivided  attention  to  the  end  is  a  sure  sign  of  the 
effect  which  the  preacher  desires  being  produced, 
I  think  the  sermon  must  have  been  highly  effective. 
As  this  was  the  case  with  the  first,  I  look  forward 
with  anxiety,  but  still  with  better  confidence,  to 
those  which  are  to  come. 

The  lectures  have  to  be  printed  within  two 
months  after  the  course  is  completed,  and  it  had 
been  suggested  to  my  father  that  the  volume  might 
properly  be  dedicated  to  the  King. 

B.  N.  C.,  May,  1827. 

I  found  a  very  kind  letter  from  Charles  Sumner, 
my  Lord  of  Llandaff,  highly  approving  of  my  plan, 
and  expressing  his  opinion  that  such  a  compliment 
would  be  considered  well  timed.  At  this  part  of 
the  letter  Cardwell  and  I  laughed  most  heartily,  but 
it  will  be  rather  amusing  if  it  is  taken  in  such  a 
light.  I  wrote  the  formal  letter  to  Dr.  Gooch,  the 
present  librarian,  but  have  not  yet  received  an 
answer.  The  printing  advances,  but  not  so  rapidly 
as  I  had  hoped.  However,  we  have  entered  on  the 
sixth  lecture.  No.  7  went  off  uncommonly  well. 
The  ladies  were  rather  drawn  away  to  have  their 
tender  hearts  melted  by  Blanco  White's  Charity 
Sermon  ;  but  the  University  attendance  was  quite 
as  full  as  ever. 

The  volumes  of  Bampton  Lectures  must  now 
considerably  exceed  one  hundred,  and  it  is  very 
unlikely  that  any  one  will  pierce  through  an  over- 
lying stratum,  the  accumulation  of  seventy  years, 
to  a  volume  that  was  published  in  1827.  But 
as  I  have  seen  want  of  imagination  imputed  as 
a  defect  in  my  father's  histories — the  very  last 
quality  in  which  I  venture  to  believe  that  they 


108  OXFORD   COMMEMORATION,    1827        [CHAP. 

are  deficient — it  may  be  permitted  to  refer  to  the 
high  authority  of  Archbishop  Whately,  who,  alluding, 
in  his  "  Elements  of  Rhetoric,"  to  the  importance, 
among  the  intellectual  qualifications  for  the  study 
of  history,  of  a  vivid  imagination,  gives,  as  an  illus- 
tration of  what  he  has  been  enforcing,  a  long  extract 
from  Milman's  Bampton  Lectures  (vi.  267),  in 
which  a  picture  is  drawn  of  an  Apostle  of  Jesus 
Christ,  tentmaker  or  fisherman,  entering  as  a 
stranger  into  one  of  the  splendid  cities  of  Syria, 
Asia  Minor,  or  Greece. 

Commemoration  in  June  of  the  same  year,  1827, 
at  which  my  father,  as  Professor  and  Public  Orator, 
had  to  be  present,  seems  to  have  been  of  more  than 
usual  interest. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  ought  not  to  represent 
the  affair  at  Oxford  in  rather  sombre  colours,  that  I 
may  not  excite  your  regret.  I  would  have  given 
anything  for  you.  The  Theatre  in  the  morning  was 
splendid,  and  everything  went  off  to  admiration. 
Peel  was  the  one  great  and  engrossing  object  of 
attraction.  The  applause  was  stunning.  And  at  last 
the  youths  began  to  call  out  Canning's  name, 
followed  with  violent  hissing,  and  then  Peel's,  with  as 
extravagant  plaudits.  Peel  kept  his  countenance 
extremely  well.  I  was  introduced  to  him  before 
the  morning  ceremony.  My  speech  went  off  very 
well.  I  contrived  to  substitute  a  different  conclusion, 
and  to  bring  in  poor  Reginald  [Heber].  His  more 
intimate  friends,  Sir  Thomas  Acland  and  Sir  R. 
Inglis,  were  uncommonly  pleased  with  it.  The  Vice- 
Chancellor  and  Proctors  were  all  tolerably  popular ; 
in  short,  good  humour  was  the  order  of  the  day. 
The  oratorio  of  Palestine  went  off  well,  though  its 


v.]  ENTHUSIASM   FOR   MR.   PEEL  109 

greatest  admirers  must  allow  that  it  is  rather  heavy. 
But  in  the  Wednesday  concert,  the  fullest  I  think  I 
ever  saw  at  Oxford,  nothing  could  be  finer  than  some 
of  the  music.  Pasta  was  splendid  ;  Caradori,  though 
evidently  very  unwell,  charming ;  Mrs.  William 
Knyvett  (Miss  Travis)  excellent.  But  poor  Miss 
Stephens ! — her  voice  is  almost  gone ;  and  it  was 
rather  amusing  to  see  Pasta's  face  when  she  was 
quavering  away  and  failing  every  other  note.  The 
expression  was  partly  that  of  commiseration,  partly 
of  wonder  at  the  applause  which  she  received  from 
her  partizans.  Eliot  was  here.  How  he  bore  his 
idol,  being  manifestly  in  the  fourth  place,  I  know 
not.  To  be  sure,  the  face  of  Madame  Pasta, 
itself  rich  in  the  more  than  usual  share  of  ugliness 
which  nature  has  bestowed  upon  her,  was  set  off 
with  a  dress  which  made  it  infinitely  more  striking. 
So  that  if  Miss  Stephens  had  been  in  good  looks — 
which,  alas  !  she  was  not — she  might  have  retorted 

upon  the  Calmuck  visage  of  her  rival.     said 

rather  well,  that  all  birds  with  beautiful  voices  are, 
like  Pasta,  condemned  to  be  without  any  other  kind 
of  beauty. 

The  enthusiasm  for  Mr.  Peel  among  his  con- 
stituents did  not,  unfortunately,  survive  his  adhesion 
to  the  cause  of  Catholic  Emancipation,  for  which 
purpose  a  measure  was  announced  by  the  Duke  of 
Wellington's  Ministry  early  in  the  year  1829. 

A  letter  from  Mr.  Peel  to  the  Vice-Chancellor 
resigning  his  seat  as  representative  of  the  University 
was  received  on  February  4th,  and  Oxford  was  soon 
in  the  excitement  of  a  Parliamentary  election  ;  for 
Mr.  Peel's  re-election  was  to  be  contested,  and  Sir 
Robert  Harry  Inglis  was  chosen  to  fight  the  battle 
of  the  Anti-Catholics. 


HO         CHAIRMAN   OF   PEEL'S   COMMITTEE      [CHAP. 

I  believe  [my  father  writes  to  his  sister-in-law, 
Miss  Cockell]  that  Nina  [my  mother]  did  not  tell  you 
the  Reading  version  of  my  last  journey  to  London. 
Peel  had  come  over  to  Reading  from  Strathfield- 
saye,  left  two  servants  at  the  Bear  (I  love  to  be 
minute)  had  a  long  interview  with  me  at  my  house, 
upon  which  I  set  off  to  be  chairman  of  his  London 
committee.  I  suspect  our  ultras  are  not  a  little 
perplexed,  with  Dukinfield  and  myself  voting  for 
him. 

Then  some  days  later  he  writes  to  my  mother 
from  London  : — 

UNITED  UNIVERSITY  CLUB, 
February  iStfr,  1829. 

Here  I  am  in  the  thick  of  the  bustle.      I  scarcely 
know  how  affairs  proceed  as  to  the  election,   but 
I    have  just  heard   that   the   chairman   of   Inglis's 
London  committee  is  no  less  than  the  redoutable 
Sir   John    Sewell,    who   once    called   upon    me    as 
pretendant  to  the  representation  of  Reading,  having, 
as  he  stated,  some  spare  eloquence  which  he  wished 
to  bestow  upon  the  National  Councils — he  having 
duly  exercised  himself  before  those  numerous  and 
respectable  assemblies  the  East   India  House  and 
the  Mary-le-bone  Vestry  !     I  have  received  a  hand- 
some letter  from  George  Dawson,  who  had  shown 
my  communication  to  Peel.     The  Bill  will  certainly 
pass  in  the  Lords.     The  report  last  night  was  that 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland  had  recanted, — that  would 
make  the  whole  complete.    The  great  Anti-Catholics, 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle  and  Lord  Winchilsea,  are 
christened   the  Goose  and  Gridiron.     I   met   Lord 
Sidmouth  as  I  was  coming  out  of  Peel's  committee. 
I  asked  him  to  guess  where  I  came  from.     "  Peel's 
committee,  I  suppose."     We  walked  together  from 
Charing  Cross  to  Grafton  Street.     He  let  out  a  few 
hints  which  threw  light  on  the  whole  situation. 


v.]  THE   CATHOLIC   QUESTION  ill 

Mr.   Dawson's  letter  above  referred  to    was    as 
follows  : — 

TREASURY  CHAMBERS, 

February  \^th, 
MY  DEAR  MlLMAN, 

Many  thanks  for  your  kind  letter,  which  I 
have  shown  to  Mr.  Peel,  and  he  desires  me  to 
express  his  warmest  thanks  for  your  very  flattering 
opinion.  A  committee  has  been  formed  at  Oxford 
to  propose  him  for  re-election,  which  will  be 
supported  by  one  in  London  which  was  formed 
to-day  ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  their  endeavours 
will  be  successful.  He  declines  expressing  any 
wish  upon  the  subject,  but  his  friends  seem  deter- 
mined to  act  without  consulting  him,  considering 
his  re-election  a  matter  in  which  the  interests  of 
the  University  are  more  involved  than  his  private 
feelings  ;  in  which  opinion  a  great  majority  of  the 
Oxford  men  in  London  concur. 

U.  U.  C.,  Saturday ',  February  2ist,  1829. 

The  first  election  (for  the  Public  Oratorship) 
is  already  decided  by  the  retirement  of  Cramer's 
competitor ;  but  Peel's  will  certainly  come  to  a 
crisis  on  Thursday.  I  have  just  been  at  the  com- 
mittee. An  intimate  friend  of  mine  speaks  in  great 
confidence.  I  myself  am  not  so  sanguine.  I  wished 
for  you  most  extremely  last  night.  I  went  to 
Rienzi>  which  goes  off,  with  the  exception  of 
the  last  scene,  extremely  well.  Young  acts  very 
finely  ;  Miss  Phillips  extremely  well.  I  could  not 
help  thinking  of  my  own  meditated  coup  de  theatre, 
though  all  would  have  been  in  some  degree  to 
no  purpose  if  the  scenery  had  been  no  better. 
The  Capitol  at  Rome  is  represented  by  an  old 
Gothic  castle.  It  is  really  quite  disgraceful  to 
the  house.  As  for  London,  it  rings  with  nothing 
but  the  Catholic  Question  and  Peel's  election.  I 


112  WHAT   WILL  THE   BISHOPS   DO?          [CHAP. 

passed  two  watchmen  as  I  walked  from  the  play 
alone  to  my  brother's  house  in  Park  Street.. 
Dogberry  and  Verges  were  gravely  discussing  the 
Marquis  of  Anglesey.  Considering,  however,  the 
nature  of  the  contest,  I  could  not  be  involved  in 
one  which  would  perplex  me  less.  All  my  friends 
are  to  be  found  in  Peel's  committee-room.  It  is 
not  known  what  the  Bishops  will  do.  The  report 
says  "  Omne  quod  exit  in  Chester"  ;  that  is,  all  that 
end  in  Chester — Chester,  Winchester,  Chichester, 
Rochester — will  go  with  the  King.  The  Archbishop 
of  York  is  supposed  to  be  Liberal  ;  Copleston  an. 
avowed  Liberal.  Nothing  can  equal  the  fury  of  the 
Anti-Catholic  papers.  They  talk  of  looking  to 
the  title  by  which  the  House  of  Brunswick  holds  the 
throne,  and  throw  out  hints  about  the  House  of 
Sardinia.  Dr.  Phillpotts,  finding  the  Bishops  had 
not  ratted,  is  said  to  have  left  town  with  his  tail 
between  his  legs,  pondering  on  the  possibility  of 
re-ratting.  The  worst  of  all  is,  the  parties  seem 
sad,  serious,  and  savage.  There  ought  to  be  a 
premium  on  a  good  joke. 

The  scene  is  now  transferred  to  Oxford. 

Wednesday,  February  2$th. 

I  shall,  if  I  am  able,  get  back  to  Reading  on  Friday; 
but  the  business  does  not  open  till  twelve  on 
Thursday  ;  and  as  there  will  be  considerable  speechi- 
fication,  little  voting  will  take  place  till  Friday 
morning.  At  all  events,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  await 
the  final  result,  as  our  adversaries  accuse  us  of 
having  stolen  a  march  and  secured  all  the  coaches, 
so  that  the  indignant  Anti-Catholics  must  stand  in 
patience,  or  rather  venting  their  spleen,  by  the  way- 
side. .  .  .  Now,  to  go  back  back  to  the  election, 
the  result,  as  I  have  always  said,  is  doubtful. 
Both  parties  are  in  high  spirits,  but  the  multitude  of 


v.]  THE   OXFORD   ELECTION  113 

neuters  makes  it  impossible  to  calculate  accurately. 

The  most  comical  part  is  my  poor  friend .     He 

has  got  on  the  wrong  side  by  mistake,  and  is  assailed 
by  letters  from  all  quarters.  I  have  not  yet  had  my 
fling  at  him,  but  shall  not  spare  him.  What  busi- 
ness has  he  out  of  the  leading-strings  ?  It  is  curious 
and  rather  striking,  certainly  a  fact  highly  creditable 
to  Peel,  that  out  of  forty  members  of  the  House  of 
Commons  thirty-eight  vote  for  him.  Did  I  tell  you 
the  rumour  about  Mapledurham — that  the  living 
and  canonry  of  Windsor  are  reserved  for  young 
FitzClarence,  now  in  deacon's  orders  ?  Gerard 
Wellesley  certainly  said,  with  his  usual  elegance  of 
phrase,  "  The  King  has  grabbed  Mapledurham." 
It  is  very  agreeable  to  meet  many  old  friends,  and 
rather  amusing  to  see  the  rusty  old  parsons  who 
have  been  disturbing  my  studies  by  stamping  their 
ponderous  shoes  about  the  Bodleian.  "  To  this  com- 
plexion we  must  come  at  last."  Is  this  so  ?  Must 
one,  without  being  delicately  arrayed  in  episcopal 
purple,  or  even  a  dean's  apron  to  cover  one's 
tottering  knees,  assume  the  farmer-consorting  and 
uncivilized  look  and  manner  of  so  many  of  my 
clerical  brethren  ? 

ST.  MARY'S,  February  2%th. 

I  suppose  you  know  we  have  been  beat — miserably 
beat.  Oh  the  long  visages  that  appeared !  We 
could  tell  every  vote  as  the  voter  came  up  to  the  poll. 
Some  marched  up  as  if  they  were  thinking  of  the 
faggot  they  were  to  bear  in  a  few  months  ;  some 
pondering  on  the  text  in  the  Revelation  which 
relates  to  the  Scarlet  Lady,  whom  Dr.  Lingard,  in 
the  new  volume  of  his  history,  with  commendable 
delicacy,  does  not  denominate  at  full  length,  but 

calls    the  W of  Babylon  (don't   be  shocked)  ; 

some  with  voices  as  long  and  dull  as  their  visages, 
drawling  out  Sir  Rob — ert  Har — ry  In — glis.     Not 

8 


114  CLOSE   OF   THE   POLL  [CHAP. 

that  I  know  the  final  result,  but  the  majority  last 
night  was  126  against  Peel — irretrievable,  even  if 
we  had  a  reserve,  which  I  doubt. 

At  the  close  of  the  poll  the  majority  against 
Peel  was  146,  and  those  of  his  supporters  who 
had  looked  for  a  more  favourable  result  must  indeed 
have  been  of  sanguine  temperament,  considering 
that  but  a  short  time  previously,  at  an  unusually 
full  gathering  of  Convocation,  a  petition  against 
any  concession  to  the  Catholic  claims  had  been 
adopted  by  a  majority  of  more  than  three  to  one. 

Some  of  his  parishioners  would  seem  to  have 
been  rather  scandalized  at  the  support  given  by  their 
vicar  to  Mr.  Peel  at  Oxford.  Writing  from  the 
Athenaeum,  some  little  time  after  the  election  was 
over,  my  father  says : — 

I  discovered  just  now  immediately  opposite  to  me 
Dr.  Gabell.  He  told  me  that  he  had  been  recently 
advocating  my  cause.  I  stared,  but  it  was  rather 
a  comical  story.  During  the  recent  high  wind  he 
was  in  Reading.  Certain  gaping  folk  were  gazing 
at  St.  Giles's  steeple,  supposing  that  it  rocked.  "  Is 
it  gone  ? "  I  interrupted  him,  in  eager  hope.  No 
such  good  news  ;  but  he  observed  to  a  stander-by 
that  the  church  was  in  no  danger  of  falling  in 
Reading.  "  I  don't  know  that,  sir,"  said  his  strange 
friend;  "two  of  our  vicars  went  to  vote  for  Mr. 
Peel." 

The  state  of  agitation  into  which  Oxford  had 
been  plunged  by  the  Catholic  Relief  Bill  and 
Mr.  Peel's  contested  election  had  scarcely  subsided 
when  party  feeling  in  the  University  was  once 


v.]  PARLIAMENTARY   REFORM  11$ 

more  violently  excited  on  the  question  of  Parlia- 
mentary Reform.  But  the  conclusion  of  my  father's. 
second  term  of  office  as  Professor  of  Poetry  was, 
at  hand,  and  its  termination  would  release  him 
from  the  necessity  of  periodical  attendances  at 
Oxford,  which,  however  much  he  might  for  many 
reasons  value  them,  had  in  fact  become  a  rather 
severe  tax  upon  his  time,  especially  as  among  the 
duties  attached  to  the  professorship  was  that  of 
assisting  in  the  adjudication  of  various  prizes,  a 
duty  after  some  years'  experience  apt  to  become 
slightly  monotonous. 


ORIEL  COLLEGE,  May  i8//fc,  1831. 

I  find  my  coadjutors  have  made  such  little  way 
with  the  prizes  that  I  shall  probably  return  after  I 
have  read  them  and  leave  my  opinion,  as  far  as  it 
is  yet  made  up,  with  Cramer.  We  have  eighteen 
long  essays  on  the  "  Use  and  Abuse  of  Theory,"  and 
sixty-four  copies  of  verses  on  a  subject  which  might 
be  good  if  not  connected  with  so  much  religious 
and  political  excitement,  the  "  Suttees  ;  or,  Burning 
Widows  in  India."  I  have  not  yet  looked  at  them, 
having  been  working  my  weary  eyes  through  the 
essays.  I  suppose  the  successful  one  will  be  in- 
scribed, as  most  appropriately,  to  Mrs.  Heber.  I 
have  now  got  into  the  midst  of  such  an  Anti- 
Reform  current  —  Oxford  flows  all  one  way  —  that 
it  is  difficult  to  keep  one's  legs,  and  proceed  slowly 
down  the  stream  as  I  am  inclined.  My  moderation 
finds  few  —  now  Cardwell  is  absent,  who,  I  suspect, 
thinks  much  with  me  —  to  whom  it  does  not  seem 
most  marvellous.  I  long  to  be  with  you,  with 
my  children.  My  dear  boy,  I  am  neither  inclined 
to  quarrel  with  his  tender-heartedness  nor  any- 
thing else  which  his  character  has  yet  displayed. 


Il6  A  QUAKER'S   DEGREE  [CHAP. 

I  do  not  think  what  you  mention  any  mark  of 
feebleness  of  mind.  Whether  he  has  moral  strength 
or  courage  it  is  impossible  yet  to  judge;  but  he 
may  cry  over  Robert  Bruce  for  hours  without 
making  me  uneasy  on  that  head.  The  more  I 
think,  the  less  am  I  inclined  to  be  as  gloomy  as 
my  friends.  However,  this  we  will  talk  over  when 
we  meet.  I  have  work  enough  on  my  hands  of 
other  kind. 

And  as  a  last  glimpse  of  Oxford  in  the  thirties 
{1832):- 

To-morrow  a  degree  is  given  to  old  Dalton, 
a  Quaker,  and  a  great  chemist.  Fortunately  there 
are  no  oaths  on  taking  an  honorary  degree  ;  the 
only  difficulty  was  the  putting  on  a  scarlet  gown. 
But  it  so  happens  that  the  old  man  has  an  optical 
defect  in  his  vision,  from  which  he  cannot  dis- 
tinguish red  colours ;  so  he  may  mistake  it  for 
drab.  Is  not  this  very  lucky  and  convenient  ? 

In  addition  to  my  father's  engagements  at  Oxford 
visits  to  London  in  answer  to  calls  of  literary  and 
other  business  were  not  unfrequent,  and  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  writing  to  my  mother  full  accounts 
of  all  the  persons  he  had  seen  and  the  news  that 
he  had  heard  during  these  absences.  The  letters 
are  full  of  allusions  to  the  actors  in,  and  the 
events  of,  a  very  interesting  time — full  also  of 
amusing  anecdote ;  but  they  are  written  in  the 
easy  style  of  familiar  correspondence,  and  so  much 
of  merely  domestic  detail  is  intermingled,  that,  as 
has  already  been  observed,  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  give  extracts  from  them.  One  is  warned, 


v.]  QUARTERLY   REVIEWERS  117 

indeed,  from  attempting  to  do  so  by  many  recent 
examples  showing  how  words  and  expressions  un- 
exceptionable in  familiar  intercourse  and  the  give 
and  take  of  private  conversation,  when  severed 
from  their  context  and  taken  au  grand  serieux, 
may  be  misinterpreted  obtusely  or  ill-naturedly. 
Nevertheless,  the  following  account  of  a  dinner 
in  Albemarle  Street  may  not  be  unacceptable  or 
inadmissible. 

I  found  [this  is  from  Reading]  on  my  table  a 
letter  from  Lockhart,  urging  me  to  come  to  town 
to  meet  Southey,  who  is  to  be  in  London,  and  a 
squad  of  Quarterly  Reviewers ;  this  was  backed 
by  another  from  John  Murray,  begging  me  to  meet 
the  said  squad  (or  gang,  I  suppose,  the  wicked 
Whigs  would  call  them)  at  dinner  on  Wednesday. 
Now,  this  I  have  some  inclination  to  do,  but  not 
if  I  leave  you  here  alone,  nor  unless  you  have  a 
wish  to  stay  at  Sandleford.  In  short,  I  am  in 
a  complete  "  dilummey,"  as  the  lady  says  in  the  farce  ; 
for  Dukinfield  *  has  been  here,  and  tells  me  the 
Bishop  is  to  be  with  him  house-hunting  next  week, 
and  I  do  not  wish  to  miss  him ;  but  the  day  is 
uncertain.  What  shall  I  do  ?  I  cannot  but  think 
that  my  presence  might  be  of  some  use  in  keeping 
certain  of  the  said  Reviewers  to  a  more  moderate 
course  than  they  may  be  inclined  to  adopt,  and 

*  Dukinfield,  (Sir]  Rev.  Henry  Robert,  Bart.,  student  of  Christ 
Church,  Oxford;  vicar  of  St.  Giles',  Reading,  1816;  prebendary 
of  Salisbury,  1833  ;  vicar  of  St.  Martin-in-the-Fields,  Westminster, 
1834,  till  his  death  1858.  Dukinfield  was,  as  has  been  mentioned, 
an  early  Eton  friend  of  my  father's,  and  they  were  much  thrown 
together  in  after-life,  each  holding  for  some  years  a  living  at 
Reading,  and  each  obtaining  preferment  in  London  about  the  same 
time — their  parishes,  both  in  Reading  and  in  Westminster,  being 
actually  contiguous. 


Il8  A   DINNER  AT   MR.    MURRAY'S  [CHAP. 

I  should  rather  like  to  know  what  line  they  intend 
to  take. 

He  went,  and  this  is  his  report  of  the  dinner  : — 

UNITED  UNIVERSITY  CLUB, 

November  nth,  1830, 

Never  was  such  a  dinner!  In  the  first  place,  the 
dramatis  persona  were  not,  as  I  expected,  Quarterly 
Reviewers,but  much  more  of  a  mixed  party.  How- 
ever, it  could  not  be  more  amusing ;  and  as  for 
moderation,  one  might  as  well  pour  oil  into  a  furnace. 
In  the  first  place — do  not  be  alarmed — sate  old 
Mr.  Hammond,  next  to  him  Southey,  then  a  Miss 
Murray,  then  Basil  Hall,  Palgrave,  and  a  clergyman 
named  Holland,  a  relation  of  Murray's.  On  the 
other  side,  an  old  Scotch  M.P.  named  Monteith, 
a  shrewd  old  man  of  great  wealth  and  few  words, 
Michael  Thomas  Sadler,  your  humble  servant, 
Lockhart,  a  Mr.  Miller,  a  Quarterly  Reviewer, 
and  young  Murray,  etc.  We  got  on  rather  tamely 
at  first.  I  made  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Sadler. 
After  dinner,  even  before  the  cloth  was  removed, 
Mr.  Sadler  began  to  harangue,  very  much,  I  suppose, 
as  he  does  when  lecturing  at  the  Philosophical 
School  at  Leeds.  He  talked  at  Southey  ;  but 
Southey  was  cautious,  and  I  now  and  then  slipped 
in  a  word.  Mr.  Miller  put  a  pertinent  question — how 
some  scheme  of  Mr.  Sadler's  was  to  be  effected  ? 
Sadler,  without  answering,  went  off  at  score  on 
another  subject.  Basil  Hall  could  bear  it  no 
longer ;  but  whether  in  earnest  or  not,  with  most 
earnest  vehemence  set  off  declaring  that  "  every- 
body was  as  rich  and  as  happy  as  he  ought  to  be." 
It  fell  like  a  bombshell  among  us.  Never  was 
there  such  an  explosion !  Off  went  Sadler,  Hall  in 
vain  trying  to  explain.  Then  I  gave  a  little  bit 
about  the  agricultural  labourers  ;  then  Southey  ;  then 
Sadler  again,  more  fluent  and  figurative  than  ever. 


v.]  ULTRA   POLITICS  1 19 

"  Ah,"  says  the  old  Scotchman,  "  these  are  all  figures 
of  speech  "  ;  and  gave  a  few  good  pithy  words  of 
sense.  "  I  have  seen  more  countries  than  you, "says 
Hall.  "  I  am  twice  as  old  and  have  seen  twice  as 
many  years,"  retorted  Sadler — who,  by  the  way, 
though  evidently  a  man  entirely  unused  to  good 
society,  in  this  case  was  the  more  gentlemanlike. 
At  last  there  was  a  sort  of  discussion  about  the 
Catholic  question  affair  of  last  year — the  treason 
of  Peel  &  Co.  I  did  not  choose  to  take  up  the 
cudgels  in  their  behalf.  However,  I  did  not  quite 
desert  them.  But  I  see  the  whole  tone  of  the 
ultras  to  be  still  as  vehement  at  heart  as  ever, 
though  they  are  somewhat  startled  by  the  immediate 
prospect  of  being  ousted  and  a  Whig  Ministry 
triumphant.  This  it  is  believed  is  inevitable.  On 
Tuesday  they  will  probably  be  beat  on  the  Reform 
question,  and  on  Wednesday  resign.  ...  I  should 
not  wonder  if  I  were  to  stay  till  Saturday.  The 
crisis  is  singularly  interesting.  We  went  this 
morning  to  see  Alderson  take  his  seat  as  a  judge, 
but  were  disappointed,  only  seeing  a  preliminary 
ceremony.  He  does  not  take  his  seat  till  to-morrow. . . . 
Talking  of  plots,  the  general  impression  is  that 
there  is  something  much  deeper  than  was  supposed  : 
that  the  remains  of  the  old  Thistlewood  gang  of 
desperadoes  are  the  bottom  of  the  fires  as  well  as 
of  the  riots — that  it  is  an  organized  system,  to  which 
it  is  hoped  that  a  clue  has  been  obtained.  Southey 
is  in  a  state  of  exultation,  talks  of  ultra  Polignac 
measures.  Between  ourselves,  he  seems  to  me  a 
fearful  instance,  and  a  warning,  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  noblest,  most  amiable,  most  gentle  dis- 
position may  be  embittered  and  exasperated  by 
party  writing.  Lockhart  has  persuaded  me  to 
stay  and  dine  with  him  to-morrow.  This  is  very 
idle  ;  but  as  it  does  not  detain  me  from  you,  and 
as  I  wrote  a  sermon  last  Saturday  which  I  did 


120  ARTICLE   ON   BISHOP   HEBER  [CHAP. 

not  preach,  I  may  indulge  myself.  I  have  been  at 
Murray's  :  very  little  stirring  there.  I  saw  Sotheby, 
who  admires  my  Heber  article  very  much.  There 
is  a  certain  D.D.  in  Lancashire,  by  a  comical  chance 
an  acquaintance  of  mine,  who  is  a  desperately 
stupid  personage,  but  the  most  ultra  of  men.  He 
has  written  an  indignant  letter  to  the  editor, 
denouncing  the  article  as  an  insidious  attack  upon 
the  Church,  because  I  say  that  the  great  body  of 
the  clergy  "  move  slowly  in  the  wake  of  general 
improvement."  I*  want  an  answer  to  be  written 
recanting  the  sentence,  on  the  unquestionable 
authority  of  a  learned  gentleman  who  shows  that 
he  is  so  far  beyond  the  age. 

My  father's  acquaintance,  which  had  ripened  to 
friendship,  with  the  Kemble  family,  his  reputation 
as  a  Quarterly  Reviewer,  combined  with  his  known 
good  nature,  caused,  it  would  seem,  by  no  means 
unfrequent  applications,  especially  from  authoresses, 
for  his  advice  and  friendly  intervention.  Miss 
Mitford,  as  has  been  seen,  was  anxious  that  he 
should  review  one  or  other  of  her  plays ;  and  there 
are  several  letters  from  Mrs.  Hemans,  submitting 
her  MSS.  to  his  criticism,  and  expressing  her 
obligation  for  the  trouble  that  he  had  taken  in 
furthering  her  wishes.  Mrs.  Hemans  writes  : — 

BRONWYLFA,  October\2th,  1821. 
MY  DEAR  SIR, — 

I  really  can  scarcely  regret  the  little  contre- 
temps which  have  occurred  with  respect  to  my  play, 
since  they  have  been  the  means  of  disclosing  to  me 
so  many  instances  of  kindness,  for  which  I  now  beg 
you  to  accept  my  warmest  acknowledgments,  as  my 


v.]  MRS.    HEMANS  1 21 

name  is  now  become  known  to  Mr.  C.  Kemble.  May 
I  request  you  would  express  to  him  the  sense  I 
entertain  of  his  very  honourable  conduct  on  this 
occasion,  as  well  as  my  gratitude  for  his  liberal 
offer  of  service  ?  For  your  own  zealous  and  dis- 
interested exertions  I  feel  that  the  only  return  I  can 
make  is  by  assuring  you  of  my  unlimited  confidence, 
and  my  conviction  that,  whatever  may  be  the  fate  of 
the  piece,  its  interests  could  not  have  been  more 
carefully  protected  had  they  been  in  the  hands  even 
of  a  brother.  A  late  domestic  affliction  has  pre- 
vented my  paying,  as  yet,  much  attention  to  the 
alterations  which  I  intend  to  make ;  and  as  I  cannot 
help  looking  forward  to  the  day  of  trial  with  much 
more  of  dread  than  of  sanguine  expectation,  I  most 
willingly  acquiesce  in  your  recommendation  of 
delay,  and  shall  rejoice  in  having  the  respite  as 
much  prolonged  as  possible.  I  begin  almost  to 
shudder  at  my  own  presumption  ;  and  if  it  were  not 
for  the  kind  encouragement  I  have  received  from 
you  and  Mr.  Reginald  Heber,  should  be  much 
more  anxiously  occupied  in  searching  for  any  outlet 
of  escape,  than  in  attempting  to  overcome  the 
difficulties  which  seem  to  obstruct  my  onward  path. 
With  regard  to  the  translation  from  the  French 
Sicilian  Vespers,  as  I  have  determined  upon 
changing  the  name  of  the  piece  (which  is  to  be 
simply  Procida),  I  trust  they  will  not  materially 
interfere  with  each  other.  It  would  be  a  source 
of  serious  regret  to  me  should  my  play  be  ultimately 
performed  without  Mr.  C.  Kemble,  and  I  am 
particularly  happy  that  you  have  expressed  this  feel- 
ing in  my  name  to  the  proprietors  of  Covent  Garden. 
You  have  inspired  me  with  a  most  devout  horror  of 
the  whole  race  of  managers.  I  begin  to  look  upon 
them  in  the  light  of  so  many  ogres,  and  to  feel  that 
it  will  be  almost  a  sufficient  cause  of  self-gratulation 
if  I  put  my  head  into  the  wolfs  jaws  and  escape 


122        "PROCIDA;    OR,    SICILIAN   VESPERS"     [CHAP. 

unhurt.  My  own  inexperience  in  transactions  of 
this  nature  is  just  what  might  be  expected  from 
one  whose  life  has  hitherto  been  passed  amongst  the 
Welsh  mountains.  It  is  indeed  my  only  apology 
for  the  trouble  to  which  I  have  been  the  cause  of 
subjecting  you. 

And  again,  after  an  interval  of  some  months, 
Mrs.  Hemans,  still  writing  from  Bronwylfa,  con- 
tinues : — 

March  >]th,  1822. 

I  am  so  far  from  considering  the  intelligence 
with  which  your  last  letter  has  favoured  me  as  of 
an  unpleasant  nature  that  I  cannot  but  congratulate 
myself  upon  the  gratifying  prospect  which  it  holds 
out.  I  entirely  acquiesce  in  your  opinion  as  to  the 
necessity  of  delaying  the  piece  until  the  next 
season,  and  look  upon  the  advantages  it  is  likely 
to  derive  from  being  brought  forward  under  Mr. 
Charles  Kemble's  auspices  as  reasons  sufficiently 
powerful  to  prevent  a  moment's  hesitation  in 
forming  my  decision.  So  many  circumstances, 
indeed,  concur  at  the  present  time  to  render  this 
delay  advisable,  that  I  can  only  feel  how  much  I  am 
indebted  to  the  kindness  which  has  pointed  them 
out,  and  thus  enabled  me  without  difficulty  to  make 
a  determination.  Under  this  conviction,  may  I  re- 
quest you  will  inform  Mr.  C.  Kemble  that  I  place 
the  piece  in  his  hands  with  perfect  confidence  in  his 
judgment  and  attention  to  my  interests,  and  that  I 
leave  it  to  him  to  be  brought  out  at  his  own 
discretion  in  the  course  of  the  next  Covent  Garden 
season  ?  I  shall  be  much  obliged  if  you  will  have 
the  goodness  at  the  same  time  to  convey  to  him  my 
thanks  for  the  consideration  and  liberal  feeling  which 
his  conduct  on  this  occasion  has  already  manifested. 

I  cannot  conclude  without  expressing,  however 
inadequately,  the  delight  with  which  I  have  just 


v.]  ACTED   AT   CO  VENT   GARDEN  123 

risen  from  the  perusal  of  the  Martyr  of  Antioch. 
It  has  added  another  noble  proof  to  those  you  had 
already  given  the  world  of  the  power  and  dignity 
which  genius  derives  from  its  consecration  to  high 
and  sacred  purposes.  Never  were  the  "  gay  religions 
full  of  pomp  and  gold"  so  beautifully  contrasted  with 
the  deep  and  internal  sublimity  of  Christianity.  I 
could  dwell  upon  many  parts  which  have  made  a 
lasting  impression  upon  my  mind,  did  I  not  fear 
that  it  would  appear  almost  presumptuous  to  offer  a 
tribute  of  praise  so  insignificant  as  mine  to  that 
which  must  have  already  received  the  suffrage  of  all 
who  are  entitled  to  judge  of  excellence.  With  every 
feeling  of  esteem  and  a  deep  sense  of  the  kindness 
I  have  received  from  you,  believe  me,  dear  sir, 

Most  truly  your  obliged 

F.  HEMANS. 

The  "  piece,"  Procida  ;  or,  the  Sicilian  Vespers, 
was  produced  in  due  course  at  Covent  Garden  ;  but, 
alas !  not  even  the  auspices  of  Mr.  C.  Kemble 
could  save  it,  and  it  had  to  be  at  once  withdrawn, 
though  it  was  afterwards  performed  with  some 
success  at  Edinburgh. 

Yet  another  friend  of  my  father's,  Mrs.  Opie,  was 
anxious  to  have  a  review  of  her  poems  in  the 
Quarterly,  and  made  overtures  to  him  on  the 
subject.  Her  letters,  in  which  it  may  perhaps  be 
considered  that  the  simplicity  of  the  Quaker  lady 
is  slightly  dashed  by  a  touch  of  more  worldly  be- 
guilement,  are  at  least  characteristic  : — 

$th  Month,  \qth,  1834. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — 

I  am  grateful  for  thy  kindness  in  calling  on 
me   a   second    time    in    the    midst   of  thy  London 


124  LETTER   FROM   MRS.    OPIE  [CHAP, 

engagements,  and  am  truly  sorry  that  I  did  not  see 
thee.  I  was  gone  to  see  Lady  Alderson  dressed  for 
Court ;  but  I  had  rather  have  seen  thee — for  I  need 
not  tell  thee  that  a  valued  friend  is  to  me  a  more 
pleasing  sight  than  a  Court  dress.  Since  we  met  I 
have  been  cupped  and  what  not,  but  without  success. 
However,  as  Brodie  has  convinced  himself  that  no 
vital  parts  are  affected,  I  am  comforted,  and  hope 
to  be  well  in  time,  consoling  myself  also  with  the 
eleventh  verse  of  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Hebrews. 

Now,  dear  friend,  bear  with  me  while  I  presume 
in  a  new  way  on  thy  indulgence.  My  company 
and  I  have  had  some  important  and  to  me  nervous 
communications  since  I  came  to  London  respecting 
reviews  and  reviewers.  I  have  told  them  that  I 
wish  to  be  reviewed  in  the  Quarterly,  and  had 
rather  be  even  criticised  (gently)  there  than  not 
have  the  honour  of  being  noticed  by  them  at  all. 
They  replied  that  there  they  could  not  help  me, 
but  asked  if  I  could  not  help  myself.  I  told  them 
that  I  knew  no  one  in  that  quarter  but  my  friend 
H .  H .  M  ilman.  "  Then  by  all  means  write  to  him  !  " 
was  the  eager  answer,  "  and  we  will  send  him  a  copy 
of  the  unpublished  work."  I  hope  thou  wilt  believe 
me  when  I  say  that  I  shrank  back  appalled  from 
doing  this,  being  unwilling  to  put  thee  in  so 
awkward  a  predicament,  since  to  refuse  or  comply 
might  be  equally  disagreeable  to  thee,  and  also 
from  the  fear  of  appearing  to  thee  presuming  and 
indelicate.  But  after  a  week's  deliberation  I  have 
resolved  to  ask  thy  aid  in  this  momentous  crisis.  It 
is  so  long  since  I  have  ventured  before  the  public 
in  this  line,  that  I  feel  all  the  alarm  of  my  earliest 
authorizing  days ;  and  as  I  believe  it  will  be  the 
last  time  of  my  so  venturing  forth,  I  am  desirous 
that  the  public  should  bid  me  a  kind  farewell.  (Will 
these  feelings  plead  my  excuse  for  thus  troubling 
thee  ?)  The  Edinburgh  Review  reviewed  my  first 


v.]  SOLICITS   A   REVIEW  125 

volume  of  poems  copiously  in  their  first  number,  and 
have  since  reviewed  some  of  my  tales  ;  but  the 
Quarterly  have  always  passed  me  by.  Since  I 
began  to  write  this,  I  have  been  encouraged  by 
recollecting  that  thou  wast  so  kind  as  to  praise  my 
lines  on  dear  Isabella  —  lines  which  are,  I  am  sure, 
very  inferior  to  some  others  in  my  little  work. 
Thou  wilt  receive  it  to-morrow,  but  without  preface, 
table  of  contents,  or  a  list  of  errors.  It  will  be  out, 
I  think,  next  week.  How  glad  I  should  have  been 
to  have  had  an  opportunity  of  profiting  by  thy 
criticisms  when  it  was  in  MS.  !  I  did  think  of 
sending  it  to  thee,  but  it  passed  through  the  hands 
of  eight  critics,  and  of  one  terribly  severe  one,  and 
I  thought  I  would  not  venture  so  to  intrude  upon 
thy  leisure.  Farewell,  with  the  best  wishes  for  thee 
and  for  those  dearest  to  thee. 

I  am  ever  most  faithfully  thine, 

AMELIA  OPIE. 

How  my  father  se  tirait  de  cette  affaire  must  be 
inferred  from  the  next  letter. 


$th  Month,  28M,  1834. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  — 

I  lose  no  time  in  thanking  thee  for  thy  kind, 
candid,  and  considerate  answer  to  my  bold  applica- 
tion. I  feared  it  would  embarrass  thee,  mats  tu  t'es 
bien  tire*  d'  affaire.  I  made  a  sort  of  similar  resolve 
to  thine  when  I  commenced  my  own  literary  career. 
I  resolved  never  to  look  over,  in  order  to  criticise, 
any  work  of  fiction  in  MS.,  especially  any  one 
written  by  a  woman,  in  order  to  avoid  having 
improper  motives  attributed  to  me  when  I  did  not 
or  could  not  praise  ;  and  I  have  kept  my  resolution. 
But  the  task  of  criticising  for  the  public  eye  is  a 
far  more  difficult  and  delicate  one,  and  I  wonder 
not  at  thy  having  avoided  it.  But  in  the  case  in 
question  I  felt  there  could  be  no  competition  ; 


126  MRS.   OPIE'S   AWE   OF   LOCKHART         [CHAP. 

therefore  I  knew  thy  delicacy  could  not  be  alarmed 
by  the  possibility  of  my  imputing  improper  motives 
to  thee,  had  I  been  a  person  likely  so  to  judge 
thee.  Allow  me  to  say,  in  self-justification  for  my 
having  given  tributes  "  so  sacred "  to  the  public 
eye,  that  some  of  them  were  written  at  the  request 
of  others,  and  that  most  were  published  at  the 
request  of  many,  and  the  publishing  approved  by 
all  who  are  most  concerned  in  the  tributes  paid. 
To  one  dear  friend  whose  repeated  bereavements 
have  made  her  sorrows  and  her  deep  sense  of  them 
so  sacred  in  our  eyes  that  neither  her  kindred  nor 
her  friends  ever  dare  to  name  them  to  her,  and 
whose  losses  are  the  theme  of  two  of  my  lays,  I 
thought  it  right  to  apply  for  leave  to  print  those 
lines  which  concerned  her,  and  her  answer  surprised 
both  me  and  her  relations  also.  "  Tell  Amelia,"  she 
said,  "  that  I  am  grateful  for  her  kind  and  considerate 
message,  but  I  must  own  I  should  have  been 
mortified  if  I  had  not  seen  the  lines  in  her  book  "  ! 
And  this  lady  (a  Friend)  has  mourned  oftener  and 
longer  than  any  one  of  my  acquaintance.  I  assure 
thee  that  the  circumstance  entirely  removed  my 
yet  remaining  reluctance  to  print  my  mournful  and 
monotonous  lays. 

But  I  have  not  yet  said  what  I  most  wish  to  say. 
No  one,  I  believe,  admires  thy  friend  Lockhart's 
great  and  delightful  talents  more  than  I  do,  and  I 
also  admire  him  as  a  very  agreeable,  handsome 
man  ;  but  I  feel  him  to  be  so  aweful  as  the  editor 
of  the  Quarterly,  and  as  its  sublime  Jupiter 
Tonans,  that  I  shrink  from  being  mentioned  to  him 
as  a  humble  suppliant  for  his  favour,  or  I  should 
say  his  mercy,  and  I  felt  my  heart  beat  when  I  read 
of  thy  intentions.  I  had  rather  not  so  appear  before 
him.  .  .  . 

Believe  me  very  gratefully  thine, 

AMELIA  OPIE. 


v.]  A   BREAKFAST   AT   MR.    ROGERS'S  127 

During  his  brief  sojourns  in  London  my  father 
seems  to  have  been  overwhelmed  with  invitations 
and  engagements,  and  to  have  had  some  difficulty 
in  compressing  all  that  he  wished  to  do  into  the 
limited  time  at  his  disposal.  A  few  further  gleanings 
from  his  letters  home  may  be  gathered,  but  they 
will  be  few ;  and  the  time  of  his  permanent  removal 
from  Reading  to  London  was  now  approaching.  A 
breakfast  at  Mr.  Rogers's  is  thus  referred  to  : — 

ATHENAEUM,  May  ioth,  1834. 

Well,  my  day  ought  to  be  a  very  literary  one.  I 
am  just  come  from  a  breakfast  at  Rogers's  ;  present, 
Sharpe,  Luttrell,  Hallam,  Labouchere,  a  clever  Whig 
member,  Jeffrey,  and  a  Mr.  Siddall,  an  American, 
who  wrote  an  amusing  tour  in  Spain,  and  is  just 
returned  from  a  second  visit  to  that  country,  where 
all  parties  rob  without  distinction  of  political  creed, 
and  only  make  the  difference  of  murdering,  if  there 
is  some  trifling  collision  on  that  interesting  subject. 
I  dine  with  Hallam,  and  go  to  the  Duke  of  Sussex's. 
I  went  last  night  with  Phil  Duncan  to  hear  old 
Dalton.  It  was  very  hot,  and  he  was  very  dry  ; 
and  I  think,  if  he  had  taken  any  one  of  his  audience, 
he  might  have  found  an  apt  illustration  of  his  theory 
of  evaporation.  Phil  Duncan  told  me  Jekyll's  last — 
wicked  man,  to  jest  on  such  a  subject : — 

Darby  and  Joan  for  twenty  years 

Lived  on  in  fond  attachment ; 
But  Joan  declared  she  never  knew 

What  happiness  a  match  meant 
Until  as  sole  executrix 

She  put  up  Darby's  hatchment. 

The  breakfast  was  very  amusing,  as  usual — one  or 
two  of  Luttrell's  finely  pointed  sentences  contrast- 
ing with  Sharpe's  more  got-up  and  elaborate  talk. 


128  STRIKE   OF   TAILORS  [CHAP. 

Rogers  is  getting,  I  think,  rather  deaf ;  but  some 
things  he  said  quite  in  his  purest  tone  of  sarcasm. 
.  .  .  The  latter  part  of  the  talk  at  Rogers'  was 
about  Bulwer.  It  is  singular  how  universally  that 
man  has  contrived  by  the  most  offensive  coxcombry 
to  neutralize  all  the  effects  of  his  talents  and  situation. 
.  .  .  They  have  a  report  that  Billy  Holmes,  the 
Tory  whipper-in,  is  to  be  a  Commissioner  of  Customs. 
The  said  Billy  was  dining  at  the  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land's, and  sate  up  till  four  o'clock,  and  then  expressed 
a  wish,  a  natural  one,  to  go  to  bed,  which  his  H.R.H. 

took  rather  in  dudgeon.     "  By  G ,"  says  Billy, 

"  I  am  not  like  Quinten,  who  is  paid  ^300  a  year 
for  listening.  I  cannot  sit  up  any  longer  without 
salary."  .  .  . 

Do  you  recollect  Sydney  Smith's  name  for 
Macaulay — "  the  Book  in  breeches"  ?  It  is  curious 
to  see  the  same  idea  expressed  by  different  persons. 
Pozzo  di  Borgo  said  of  him,  "  C'est  un  gros  livre  ;  un 
peu  de  1'usage  du  monde  en  feroit  un  grand  homme." 
The  magnanimous  journeymen  tailors  continue  their 
strike.  Every  one  has  the  privilege  of  wearing  an 
old  coat.  They  have  tried  women  ;  but  says  the 
great  Mr.  Willis,  "  Poor  things !  they  can  make 
trousers — they  can  make  a  waistcoat ;  but  women 

make   a   coat!     Sir,    they   are  such  d d  fools." 

Insolent  Mr.  Willis!  he  ought  to  be  pricked  with 
needles  till  he  repents. 

May  i^th,  1834. 

You  will  probably  have  a  short  letter  to-day. 
Coleridge  dines  most  unfashionably  early ;  he  has 
asked  me,  indeed,  to  come  very  soon  after  five,  as  he 
is  obliged  to  go  to  his  chambers  at  nine.  Our  party 
at  Lansdowne  House  was  as  follows :  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Sutherland,  Rogers,  Bobus  Smith  (Can- 
ning's friend  and  Sydney's  brother),  the  Fazakerleys, 
Mr.  Liddell,  and  a  fat  lord,  whose  name  I  did  not 
catch.  I  sate  by  the  Duchess,  near  Lord  Lans- 


v.]  LANSDOWNE   HOUSE  129 

downe,  a  round  table,  at  which  I  always  find  I  can 
talk — a  privilege  which  I  asserted,  and  I  hope  did 
not  abuse.  I  got  two  or  three  Talleyrandiana  ta 
increase  my  store.  When  he  landed  one  time  in 
England,  somebody  complimented  him  on  his  good 
looks  :  "  Vous  avez  un  air  de  bonhomie.  C'est  le 
mal  de  la  mer  qui  me  1'a  donneV'  He  was  calling 
on  the  young  Lady  Salisbury,  who  had  been  reading 
Madame  de  Genlis.  He  asked  what  she  thought 
of  her.  She  admired  her  much,  but  thought  there 
was  too  much  amour propre.  "  Amour,  oui,  madame  ; 
mais  propre,  pas  trop."  Bobus  Smith  said  that  after 
all  one  of  the  best  was  a  compliment  paid  to  himself. 
Bobus  was  talking  of  the  beauty  of  his  mother,  and 
saying  she  was  a  very  handsome  woman  :  "  C'etait 
done  apparemment  monsieur  votre  pere  qui  n'etait  pas 
bien."  So  much  for  Talleyrandiana.  Now  for  Whig 
Phillpottiana.  The  worthy  Bishop  and  his  family 
were  at  Sir  John  Hamlyn  Williams's  at  Clovelly. 
The  young  girls  were  superintended  in  their  apart- 
ment by  the  governess,  who  saw  them  with  great 
propriety  kneel  down  and  say  their  prayers.  She 
thought  she  heard  the  name  of  Lord  Grey. 
Astonished  at  this,  she  asked  if  their  father  taught 
them  to  pray  for  Lord  Grey.  "  Yes  ;  papa  says  we 
ought  always  to  pray  for  our  enemies."  I  fear  that 
I  was  malicious  enough  to  quote  my  friend  Bertrand  : 
"  Hate  nobody  ;  your  worst  enemy  of  to-day  may  be 
your  best  friend  to-morrow."  A  stall  at  Worcester 
is  vacant.  Lord  A.  FitzClarence,  having  so  ade- 
quately filled  the  place  of  Sumner,  is  thought  worthy 
to  fill  that  of  Davidson  also.  Davidson  is  the  Oriel 
man  who  wrote  the  book  on  Prophecy.  I  hear 
nothing  of  a  curate.  Vaux  was  talking  to  me  of 
one  he  had  just  had,  but  who  sometimes  mistook 
his  words,  and  defined  charity  "  reproving  our  neigh- 
bours." What  he  meant  to  say  no  one  knows.  He 
disclaimed  the  word,  but  the  rest  of  the  sermon  was 


13°  ARTICLE   ON   GIBBON  [CHAP. 

a  comment  on  the  definition.  It  rains  ;  and  the  clear 
and  sunny  London,  how  miry  it  looks  !  I  have  just 
taken  my  first  ride  in  one  of  the  new  state  carriages 
called  "omnibus."  It  cost  me  a  whole  sixpence 
to  go  from  Cumberland  Gate,  at  the  end  of  Oxford 
Street,  to  the  Bank.  I  forgot  that  all  this  would 
be  a  mystery  to  your  narrow  geographical  notions 
of  London. 

[Undated.] 

No  frank  was  to  be  procured  yesterday — at  least 
at  the  late  hour  when  I  commenced  my  petitions. 
By  the  way,  of  all  blunders  I  asked  Cam  Hobhouse 
for  one.  Now,  considering  that  being  Hobhoused  is 
proverbial  for  being  turned  out,  it  was  rather  an 
unfortunate  request.  However,  he  took  it  very  good- 
humouredly.  .  .  .  Yesterday  I  set  off  on  another 
pilgrimage  of  visits.  It  rained  dinners  for  the  day. 
Mrs.  Lefevre  asked  me,  as  did  Mansfield.  I  visited 
Chantrey.  Saw  his  splendid,  most  splendid  statue 
of  Canning.  He  was  at  work  on  his  great  horse, 
which  is  to  bear  the  portly  form  of  George  IV. 

Then,  after  mentioning  two  or  three  other  visits, 
my  father  continues  : — 

Think  of  my  not  remembering  before  the  other 
day  that  my  friend  Lady  Maria  Stanley  was 
Gibbon's  favourite  Maria  Holroyd.  I  fortunately 
found  her  at  home.  When  I  began  to  talk  on 
the  subject,  and  mentioned  Guizot,  she  broke  out 
on  the  admirable  article  in  the  Quarterly,  with 
which  she  had  been  so  much  delighted,  and  said 
that  the  author  must  have  known  Gibbon  to  have 
appreciated  him  so  justly.  Of  course  I  told  her 
immediately  the  real  author,  and  confess  that  I  felt 
not  a  little  flattered  by  the  compliment,  for  she  had 
not  the  remotest  suspicion  that  it  was  mine.  .  .  . 


v.]  OFFER   OF   PREFERMENT  131 

I  have  just  seen  Copleston  [Bishop  of  Llandaff, 
and  my  father's  immediate  predecessor  in  the 
Deanery,  St.  Paul's],  who  has  asked  me  to  break- 
fast to-morrow.  Poor  man  !  he  took  a  house  in 
Whitehall  Place  to  give  dinners  in  the  habitable 
part  of  the  world  instead  of  in  the  purlieus  of 
St.  Paul's.  But  he  has  been  labouring  (well  he 
might !)  with  such  dreadful  indigestions  that  he 
has  not  been  able  to  feast  a  single  one  of  his 
friends. 


In  1835,  during  the  short  administration  of  Sir 
Robert  Peel,  my  father  was  appointed  to  the 
rectory  of  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  to  which, 
by  a  new  arrangement  which  then  came  into 
operation  for  the  first  time,  was  attached  a  pre- 
bendal  stall  in  the  Collegiate  Church  of  St.  Peter, 
Westminster.  The  nature  of  this  arrangement  is 
explained  in  Sir  Robert  Peel's  letter  offering  to 
recommend  my  father  for  the  preferment: — 

WHITEHALL,  A$ril  2nd,  1835. 

SIR,— 

You  probably  are  aware  of  the  proposal  of 
the  Church  Commission  in  respect  to  the  ministry 
of  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  and  a  certain 
portion  of  the  revenues  of  the  vacant  prebend. 

I  am  most  anxious  to  recommend  to  the  King  for 
this  important  spiritual  trust  a  clergyman  of  the 
highest  character  and  attainments,  and  in  order 
that  I  may  best  be  enabled  to  fulfil  this  purpose 
I  make  the  offer  of  it  to  you.  The  value  of  the 
ministry  of  St.  Margaret's  is,  I  believe,  about  ^400 
per  annum,  and  the  proposal  of  the  Commissioners, 
of  which  the  King  has  approved,  is  to  add  ^th 
of  the  revenues  of  the  stall  to  St.  Margaret's, 


132  LEAVES   READING  [CHAP. 

reserving  the  remainder  for  another  church  in  the 
parish. 

I  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  sincere  respect, 
Your  faithful  servant, 

ROBERT  PEEL. 

It  will  be  necessary,  if  you  accept  my  offer,  to 
relinquish  other  preferment  in  the  Church. 
REV.  H.  H.  MILMAN. 

We  have  lost  [writes  Miss  Mitford  in  June  to  a 
friend]  our  neighbour  Mr.  Milman,  who  has  got  a 
London  living.  It  is  quite  right  that  he  should  be 
promoted  ;  but  I  would  rather  have  lost  a  hundred 
stupid  acquaintances  than  one  friend  so  entirely 
after  my  own  fashion — although  we  are  fortunate  in 
our  neighbours,  having  many  kind  ones. 

And  she  gave  but  voice  to  the  common  feeling 
when  she  adds  in  another  place  : — 

One  thing  is  certain  :  go  where  he  may,  he  will 
find  respect  and  admiration,  and  leave  behind  him 
admiration  and  regret. 


vi.]  RECTOR  OF  ST.  MARGARET'S,  WESTMINSTER  133 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Leaves  Reading — Ashburnham  House — Parish  of  St.  Margaret's — 
"History  of  Christianity" — Edition  of  Horace — Westminster 
School. 

SIR  ROBERT  PEEL'S  letter  was,  as  may 
be  seen,  written  on  April  2nd,  and  on  the 
following  day  my  father  went  up  to  London  in 
order  to  obtain  fuller  particulars  of  the  offered 
preferment.  Not  much  time  could  indeed  be  given 
to  consideration,  for  the  Ministry  were  on  the  verge 
of  resignation,  and  there  could  be  no  delay  in 
completing  the  appointments  which  it  was  their 
duty  to  make  while  still  in  office.  Writing  from 
the  Athenaeum  on  the  same  evening,  my  father 
says  : — 

I  considered  the  subject  in  all  its  bearings  on  my 
way  to  town,  and  I  have  written  at  once  to  accept. 
The  income  must  be  larger,  I  think  considerably 
larger,  than  St.  Mary's ;  the  situation,  as  far  as 
opportunity  of  distinction,  is  all  I  could  wish  ;  the 
church  handsome,  not  immoderately  large  ;  and,  from 
a  prudential  point  of  view,  there  is  one  most  para- 
mount consideration — we  can  give  our  boys  (even  if 
I  can  afford  dear  Eton  for  William  Henry),  we  can 
give  the  others  a  capital  Westminster  education 
for  a  very  small  sum.  There  is  only  one  serious 


134  PREBENDARY   OF  WESTMINSTER         [CHAP. 

drawback  :  I  fear  the  house  will  be  very  bad,  at  least 
at  first.  The  greater  number  of  the  houses  we  have 
been  reconnoitring  are  only  accessible  through  a 
long,  in  part  very  heavy  cloister ;  and  I  fear  Mr. 
Button's,  if  that  is  to  be  the  rectory,  is  very  in- 
different indeed.  They  will  indeed  be  perfectly 
quiet,  and  the  access  is  covered  all  the  way ;  but 
of  this  I  shall  know  more  to-morrow.  There  is, 
however,  one  consideration  on  the  other  hand  :  if 
I  am  a  prebendary,  I  conceive  that  I  shall  have 
option  of  houses  according  to  my  seniority,  so  that 
I  may  perhaps  improve  very  much.  I  have  hardly 
yet  had  time  to  become  nervous.  I  have  not 
seen  Peel,  and  I  have  made  one  attempt  in  vain 
to  see  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  who,  as  a  Church 
Commissioner  and  prebendary,  will  be  able  to 
give  me  most  information  about  both  income  and 
house. 

In  another  letter,   April  4th,  reporting  progress, 
my  father  says  among  other  things  : — 

I  went  home,  and  received  a  letter  from  the  Chief 
Clerk  in  the  Home  Office,  that  he  had  orders  to 
make  out  the  presentation  to  the  stall.  Then 
came  a  very  handsome  letter  from  Peel,  saying  that 
his  Majesty  most  cordially  approved  of  the  nomina- 
tion, and  expressing  a  wish  to  make  my  acquaint- 
ance. I  am  to  call  on  Monday  at  half-past  ten.  I 
expect  the  papers  to  be  ready  about  Thursday ;  but 
I  suspect  I  am  safe  whatever  happens,  as  I  believe 
the  sign-manual  will  be  affixed  to-day.  It  will,  I 
think,  be  important  that  I  should  take  possession  of 
the  living  as  soon  as  possible.  The  parishioners 
are  in  great  wrath,  as  well  they  may  be,  at  having 
been  so  much  neglected,  and  I  have  reason  to 
think  that  a  resident  rector  will  be  hailed  with 
great  satisfaction. 


vi.]        INTERVIEW  WITH   SIR   ROBERT   PEEL       135 

An  account  of  the  interview  with  Sir  Robert  Peel 
is  given  in  the  next  letter  : — 

ATHEJSLEUM,  Monday,  April  bth,  1835. 
Thank  you  for  your  very  affectionate  letter.  I 
hope  to  thank  you  in  person  to-morrow.  I  shall 
return  to  dinner :  must  be  in  London  again  on 
Friday  morning,  be  installed  on  Saturday,  and  "  read 
in  "  in  the  Abbey  on  Monday.  But  I  am  too  long 
in  coming  to  my  interview  with  Peel.  It  lasted  two 
or  three  minutes,  but  nothing  could  be  more  kind, 
more  gentlemanly,  or  more  flattering.  He  actually 

almost  apologized  for  having  named before  me, 

and  said  that  I  was  ti\t  first  person  to  whom  he  had 
wished  to  show  a  mark  of  respect  for  talents  and  my 
professional  career.  I  saw  that  he  was  busy,  and 
did  not  wish  to  enter  much  into  conversation,  so 
got  up  and  said  that  his  time  was  too  valuable  to 
the  country  for  me  to  trespass  further  upon  it.  I 
am  receiving  full  showers  of  congratulations.  The 
Bishop  of  Gloucester  assures  me  that  the  appoint- 
ment has  given  general  satisfaction. 

The  Whigs,  indeed,  seem  to  have  been  in  quite 
as  high  good-humour  with  the  appointment  as  the 
Tories  : — 

Spring  Rice  tells  me  that  all  his  friends  most 
highly  approve  of  my  promotion  ;  and  Rogers  said, 
"  It  is  their  [the  Tories]  best  deed,  and  they  have 
done  many." 

With  St.  Margaret's  and  its  splendid  painted 
window  at  the  east  end  my  father  was  evidently 
much  pleased,  describing  it  as  "  perfection  for  a 
large  church  " ;  and  after  "  reading  in "  at  the 
Abbey,  he  says  : — 


136  ASHBURNHAM   HOUSE  [CHAP. 

What  a  splendid,  almost  appalling  sight  is  the 
Abbey  crowded  with  a  most  attentive  congrega- 
tion, as  seen  from  the  communion-table  ! 

The  difficulty  which  has  been  alluded  to  in  the 
previous  letters  about  finding  a  suitable  residence 
was  happily  solved,  mainly  through  the  thoughtful 
consideration  of  the  Sub- Dean,  Lord  John  Thynne 
(between  whom  and  my  father  a  warm  friendship 
grew  up),  and  my  father  became  the  occupier,  first 
as  Lord  John's  tenant,  afterwards  by  succession  in 
his  own  right,  of  Ashburnham  House.  So  much 
of  historical  interest  is  attached  to  this  house,  that 
I  do  not  scruple  to  quote  a  passage  from  Dean 
Stanley's  "  Historical  Memorials  of  Westminster 
Abbey,"  in  which  it  is  mentioned  : — 

It  was  at  this  time  (1731)  that  an  alarming  fire 
took  place  in  the  Precincts.  On  the  site  of  the 
old  Refectory  was  a  stately  house,  built  by  Inigo 
Jones,  and  illustrated  by  Sir  J.  Soane.  A  beautiful 
staircase  of  this  period  still  remains.  It  has  gone 
through  various  changes.  In  1708  it  was  occupied 
by  Lord  Ashburnham,  and  from  him  took  the  name 
of  Ashburnham  House.  In  1739  it  reverted  to 
the  Chapter,  and  was  divided  into  two  prebendal 
houses,  of  which  the  larger  was  in  later  years 
connected  with  the  literature  of  England,  when 
occupied  first  as  a  tenant  by  Fynes  Clinton,  the 
laborious  author  of  the  "  Fasti  Hellenici,"  and  then 
by  Henry  Milman,  poet,  historian,  and  divine,  as 
Canon  of  Westminster.  In  the  intervening  period 
it  had  become  the  property  of  the  Crown,  and  in 
1712  received  what  was  called  the  King's  Library, 
and  in  1730  the  library  of  Sir  Robert  Cotton. 
Dr.  Bentley  happened  to  be  in  town  at  the  moment 


vi.]  LIFE   AT   WESTMINSTER  137 

when  the  house  took  fire.  Dr.  Freind,  the  head- 
master, who  came  to  the  rescue,  has  recorded  how 
he  saw  a  figure  issuing  from  the  burning  house 
into  Little  Dean's  Yard,  in  his  dressing-gown, 
with  a  flowing  wig  on  his  head,  and  a  huge  volume 
under  his  arm.  It  was  the  great  scholar  carrying 
off  the  Alexandrian  MS.  of  the  New  Testament. 
The  books  were  first  placed  in  the  Little  Cloisters, 
in  the  Chamber  of  the  Captain,  and  in  the  boarding- 
house  in  Little  Dean's  Yard,  and  then  on  the 
following  Monday  removed  to  the  old  Dormitory, 
just  vacated,  till,  in  1757,  they  reached  their  present 
abode  in  the  British  Museum.* 

It  may  be  added  that,  on  the  death  of  Lord 
John  Thynne,  who,  on  my  father's  removal  to 
St.  Paul's,  had  again  come  into  occupation  of 
Ashburnham  House,  that  house,  with  the  one 
adjoining,  which  had  formerly  formed  part  of  it, 
was  transferred  to  the  governing  body  of  West- 
minster School,  under  the  provisions  of  the  Public 
Schools  Act  of  1868,  subject  to  an  arrangement 
with  the  Ecclesiastical  Commissioners.  It  is  curious 
to  note  that,  of  the  two  houses  officially  occupied 
by  my  father  in  London,  the  one,  Ashburnham 
House,  was  built  by  Inigo  Jones ;  the  other,  the 
Deanery  of  St.  Paul's,  by  Christopher  Wren. 

The  fifteen  years  during  which  my  father  re- 
mained at  Westminster  were  the  most  laborious 
of  his  life.  To  all  his  literary  and  other  avocations 
was  added,  with  the  first  claim  upon  his  attention, 
the  care  of  a  vast  parish,  of  which  the  western 
boundary-stone  must  be  sought  in  the  centre  of 
*  Pages  554-5. 


138  STATE   OF  THE   PARISH  [CHAP. 

Kensington  Gardens,*  and  which  comprised  within 
its  limits  some  of  the  worst  and  most  notoriously 
infamous  streets  and  alleys  that  had  clustered  about 
the  ancient  sanctuary.  Of  these  a  large  portion, 
including  picturesque  old  Tothill  Street,  with  its 
gabled  roofs,  made  way  for  Victoria  Street,  or 
were  swept  away  in  carrying  out  the  plans  of  the 
first  Westminster  Improvement  Commissioners,  in 
whose  schemes,  both  as  rector  of  St.  Margaret's 
and  as  a  member  of  the  Chapter  of  Westminster, 
my  father  was  deeply  interested,  and  did  all  in 
his  power  to  assist.  To  those  who  can  remember 
what  the  purlieus  of  the  Abbey  then  were,  and  can 
compare  them  with  what  they  now  are,  the  following 
letter  to  Sir  Edwin  Pearson,  who  had  taken  an 
active  part  in  promoting  these  great  improvements, 
and  had  been  chairman  of  the  Commission  when 
Victoria  Street  was  opened  in  August,  1851,  may 
still  be  of  interest : — 

LORD  WARDEN  HOTEL,  DOVER, 
October,  1856. 

DEAR  SIR  EDWIN, — 

Though  your  letter  was  forwarded  to  me 
while  I  was  on  the  Continent,  in  the  hurry  and 
distraction  of  sight-seeing,  I  could  not  reply  to  it 
in  a  manner  satisfactory  either  to  you  or  myself. 

*  The  parochial  authorities,  on  the  annual ' '  beating  of  the  bounds," 
used,  I  believe,  to  proceed  in  a  boat  up  the  Serpentine,  with  official 
maces  and  wands,  and  so  find  their  way  to  the  boundary  in  the 
Gardens  ;  whipping,  perhaps,  according  to  ancient  custom,  a  small 
boy  at  the  stone  marking  the  division  of  the  parishes,  that  he  might 
have  occasion  to  remember  the  circumstance  in  future  years,  should 
he  be  called  upon  as  "  oldest  inhabitant"  to  testify  on  a  disputed 
boundary. 


vi.]  LETTER   TO   SIR   EDWIN   PEARSON  139 

I  take  the  earliest  opportunity,  now  that  I  am 
safe  and  quiet  on  this  side  of  the  water,  of  writing 
on  the  subject,  and  can  only  express  my  earnest 
hope  that  my  answer  may  not  be  too  late  for 
your  purpose. 

Nothing  could  be  more  deplorable  than  the  state 
of  Westminster  before  the  Westminster  Improve- 
ment Commissioners  commenced  their  labours. 
From  the  first  period  of  my  ministry  as  rector  of 
St.  Margaret's,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  nothing 
could  be  done  for  the  moral  change  (to  speak  of 
the  spiritual  condition  would  be  a  mockery)  of  the 
dense  and  swarming  population  without  a  most 
extensive  demolition  of  the  wretched  buildings 
which  they  inhabited.  There  was  a  considerable 
area  covered  with  houses  in  which  to  have  lived 
was  to  forfeit  all  character  and  to  be  set  down 
as  thief  or  prostitute.  These  houses  were  old, 
worn  out,  not  worth  repair.  Those  at  least  which 
belonged  to  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  Westminster, 
which  were  held  on  the  short  leases  which  alone 
the  Chapter  could  grant,  and  hundreds  of  others 
which  had  fallen  into  the  same  state  of  decay  and 
wretchedness,  could  only  be  underlet  to  persons 
who  gave  high  rents  and  remunerated  themselves 
by  reletting  them  for  the  worst  purposes.  One 
whole  row  remained  for  several  years  untenanted 
because  the  Dean  and  Chapter  would  not  renew 
the  leases.  No  moral  or  religious  influences  could 
approach  these  places  with  any  possibility  of 
success.  Some  years  before  I  came  to  West- 
minster they  were  hardly  safe,  not  indeed  till  the 
establishment  of  the  new  police.  In  general  it 
was  a  shifting  population,  of  which  of  course  no 
hold  could  be  taken  ;  and  though  neither  myself 
nor  my  curates  ever  met  with  any  insult,  it  was 
generally  said  that  no  one  but  the  parson  and 
doctor  could  enter  them  without  danger.  I  speak 


140  WESTMINSTER   IMPROVEMENTS  [CHAP. 

of  the  moral  state  rather  than  as  regards  sanitary 
questions.  For  bad  as  was  the  condition  as  to 
the  latter  point  (so  extraordinary  are  the  anomalies 
of  Westminster,  and  so  imperfectly  I  am  persuaded 
is  the  subject  understood),  the  two  seasons  of 
cholera  and  the  more  fatal  influenza  (of  1837) 
affected  these  districts  much  less  than  others  which 
were  better  drained,  better  ventilated,  and  better 
supplied  with  water.  Still,  even  on  this  account 
it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  the  public  good 
to  sweep  away  an  immense  number  of  these 
miserable  hovels,  recognized  irreclaimable  haunts 
of  rogues  of  every  description  and  women  of  the 
lowest  profligacy. 

I  therefore  hailed  with  the  utmost  satisfaction 
every  scheme  for  Westminster  improvement  which 
involved  the  destruction  of  the  greatest  number  of 
these  doomed  dwellings.  When  the  scheme  in 
which  you  took  so  large  a  part  was  proposed,  I 
thought  it  my  duty  to  devote  all  the  time  and 
energy  at  my  command  to  further  its  objects,  in 
which,  if  some  engaged,  I  fear,  from  lamentably 
miscalculated  views  of  profit,  you,  I  am  fully  per- 
suaded, were  actuated  by  motives  of  Christian 
benevolence  and  the  desire  of  moral  amelioration. 
As  a  member  of  the  Chapter  of  Westminster,  as 
chairman  of  the  united  vestry  of  St.  Margaret's 
and  St.  John's,  as  intermediator  between  the  parties 
interested  and  the  Office  of  Woods  and  Forests 
(under  successive  Governments),  I  necessarily  and 
willingly  took  a  very  active  and  prominent  share 
in  the  discussions.  The  Dean  and  Chapter  of 
Westminster  saw,  with  myself,  that  the  scheme 
might  involve  some  immediate  loss  of  property  ; 
yet  they  did  not  hesitate  to  make  the  sacrifice  of 
these  discreditable  possessions,  of  which  they  could 
not  rid  themselves  but  by  Act  of  Parliament,  for 
the  moral  improvement  of  the  neighbourhood,  even 


vi.]  TRIBUTE  TO   SIR   EDWIN   PEARSON          141 

if  they  had  not  had  ground  to  hope  that  the  im- 
provement in  their  other  Westminster  property 
would  compensate  for  the  loss.  From  them,  there- 
fore, I  met  with  the  most  cordial  co-operation.  The 
vestries  behaved  with  remarkable  good  sense  and 
liberality  ;  for  they  saw  that  the  parishes  must 
eventually,  even  if  remotely,  be  much  benefited 
by  the  change.  The  Government  (Lord  Carlisle 
was  then  in  office)  lent  its  aid — I  presume  not  only 
on  the  general  principle  of  encouraging  public  im- 
provement, but  for  the  special  reason  that,  of  all 
places,  this  foul  mass  of  irredeemable  vice,  misery, 
possibly  pestilence,  ought  not  to  remain  in  the  close 
neighbourhood  of,  or  rather  intervening  between, 
the  Courts  of  Law,  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  and 
the  Royal  Palace. 

The  demolition  took  place,  and  most  assuredly 
the  alteration  in  the  condition  of  Westminster, 
even  before  I  left  it  (though  such  changes  must  be 
slow),  was  very  greatly  indeed  for  the  better.  The 
only  thing  to  regret  was  that  the  failure  of  the 
Commissioners'  funds  prevented  the  scheme  from 
being  fully  carried  out,  and  left  much  which  ought 
to  have  followed  the  fate  of  the  rest. 

To  you,  Sir  Edwin,  to  your  sacrifice  of  time,  to 
your  years  of  anxiety,  which  must  have  been  most 
severe,  and  of  labour,  which  I  know  to  have  been 
very  heavy,  I  fear  to  your  great  pecuniary  loss,  I 
must  attribute  the  chief  merit  in  this  beneficial 
change  ;  and  as  I  have  said  (though  no  doubt  you 
did  not  originally  contemplate  such  serious  involve- 
ment), I  feel  confident  that  among  your  leading 
motives  was  the  public  good,  the  religious  and 
moral  improvement  of  Westminster.  I  think  it 
but  justice  to  say  that,  throughout  the  long  and 
complicated  transactions  which  spread  over  several 
years,  my  constant  intercourse  with  you  led  me 
to  form  a  very  high  estimate  of  your  fairness, 


142  SALUTARY   CHANGES  [CHAP. 

honour,  and  liberality.  Whether  the  affairs  of  the 
Commissioners  in  which  others  were  chiefly  con- 
cerned, and  in  which  you  had  only  a  voice,  were 
conducted  with  prudence,  foresight,  and  in  perfect 
good  faith  to  all  concerned,  it  is  neither  my  duty 
nor  my  vocation  to  express  an  opinion.  But  if 
any  great  public  improvement  has  been  achieved, 
if  some  part  of  the  disgraceful  vice  and  wretched- 
ness which  was  accumulated  in  that  district  has  been 
removed — and  I  have  no  doubt  that  by  being  scattered 
over  a  wider  surface  and  dissipated  from  one  reek- 
ing and  irreclaimable  centre  of  filth  and  misery  it 
has  been  much  diminished — it  is  chiefly  to  you  that 
the  public  is  indebted  for  the  salutary  change. 
This  must  be  your  consolation  for  years  of  un- 
rewarded solicitude,  I  fear  for  large  pecuniary  losses. 
I  only  wish  that  the  Government  had  the  power 
and  the  will  to  carry  out  the  plans  contemplated 
for  the  whole  district ;  it  would  then  appear  how 
great  a  public  benefactor  he  was  who  originated 
and  so  far  conducted  with  success  the  most  difficult 
part  of  the  great  design.* 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir  Edwin, 

With  much  respect  and  esteem, 

Faithfully  yours, 

H.   H.   MlLMAN. 

I   have  ventured  to  introduce  this  letter  in  spite 
of  its  length,  as  giving  a  vivid,  if  painful,  impression 

*  It  would  be  out  of  place  here  to  enter  upon  the  subject  of 
Sir  Edwin  Pearson's  subsequent  relations  with  the  Government  and 
of  the  facts  connected  with  the  chairmanship  of  the  Westminster 
Improvement  Commission  in  1862.  My  father's  recognition  of  his 
great  services  upon  the  first  Commission,  and  of  .the  impartiality 
and  uprightness  by  which  all  his  proceedings  were  guided,  is  amply 
confirmed  by  the  contemporary  evidence  of  the  Government,  the 
Dean  and  Chapter  of  Westminster,  Lord  Coleridge,  the  Attorney- 
General,  Lord  Hatherley,  and  many  others  who  had  occasion  to  go 
carefully  into  the  matter. 


vi.]  LITERARY   WORK  143 

of  the  character  of  a  large  section  of  the  parish  in 
which  my  father's  labours  were  for  some  years  cast, 
and  of  the  anxieties  and  responsibilities  with  which 
these  years  were  overshadowed. 

It  was  to  many  a  cause  of  surprise  that  my 
father  should  have  been  able,  in  the  midst  of 
such  other  absorbing  occupations,  to  find  leisure 
to  continue  his  literary  work  ;  and  this  was  indeed 
only  made  possible  by  unwearied  assiduity  and 
his  habit  of  utilizing  every  moment  of  the  day. 
One  hour  at  least  for  writing  he  always  secured 
before  breakfast,  and  this  one  uninterrupted  hour 
he  used  often  to  say  was  worth  more  to  him 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  day  put  together.  His 
principal  works  during  this  period  were  the  com- 
pletion of  his  edition  of  Gibbon,  published,  as  has 
been  already  said,  in  1839,  and  of  which  a  new 
edition  was  called  for  in  1845  >  his  "  History  of 
Christianity  from  the  Birth  of  Christ  to  the  Abolition 
of  Paganism  in  the  Roman  Empire  "  ;  and — a  labour 
of  love — an  edition  and  Life  of  Horace,  beauti- 
fully illustrated  with  drawings,  chiefly  from  the 
remains  of  ancient  art,  by  Mr.  George  Scharf,  jun. 
The  object  of  the  edition  of  Gibbon  has  been 
perhaps  sufficiently  explained  in  a  previous  chapter ; 
and  the  design  of  the  history,  which,  as  we  have 
seen,  grew  out  of  the  "  History  of  the  Jews,"  may 
be  best  stated  in  the  author's  own  words  : — 


It  is  the  author's  object,  the  difficulty  of  which  he 
himself  fully  appreciates,  to  portray  the  genius  of 


144  "HISTORY   OF   CHRISTIANITY"  [CHAP. 

Christianity  of  each  successive  age  in  connection 
with  that  of  the  age  itself;  entirely  to  discard  all 
polemic  views  ;  to  mark  the  origin  and  progress  of 
all  the  subordinate  diversities  of  belief;  their  origin 
in  the  circumstances  of  the  place  or  time  in  which 
they  appeared  ;  their  progress  from  their  adaptation 
to  the  prevailing  state  of  opinion  or  sentiment ; 
rather  than  directly  to  confute  error  or  to  establish 
truth  :  in  short,  to  exhibit  the  reciprocal  influence 
of  civilization  on  Christianity,  of  Christianity  on 
civilization. 

Speaking  of  this  book,  Dean  Stanley  (I  still 
prefer  to  invoke  other  judgments  than  my  own) 
says  : — 

No  other  ecclesiastical  history,  at  least  in  England, 
had  ever  ventured  so  boldly,  and  yet  so  calmly  and 
gently,  to  handle  the  points  of  contact  which  unite 
the  first  beginnings  of  Christianity  to  the  course  of 
secular  and  human  events.  It  touched  some  of  the 
tenderest  points  of  the  theological  mind  of  English- 
men. Its  author  might  well  have  expected  a  re- 
newal of  the  tempest  which  had  greeted  his  earlier 
work  on  the  history  of  the  Jewish  dispensation.  But, 
by  one  of  those  singular  caprices  which  characterize 
the  turns  of  public  opinion,  instead  of  a  whirlwind 
there  followed  a  profound  calm.  Lord  Melbourne 
used  to  say  that  there  must  have  been  a  general 
assembly  of  all  the  clergy  in  the  kingdom,  in  which 
they  had  bound  themselves  by  a  solemn  compact 
never  to  mention  the  book  to  any  human  being. 

Dean  Stanley  is  not,  however,  quite  accurate  when 
he  goes  on  to  say  that  the  silence  with  which  the 
book  was  received  was  broken  only  by  a  solitary 
review,  more  favourable  than  might  have  been 


vi.]       EDUCATION  OF  THE  PEOPLE       145 

expected,  by  Dr.  Newman  in  the  British  Critic. 
There  was  certainly  one  other — I  believe  more — a 
furious  attack,  written  by  I  know  not  whom,  in 
Frasers  Magazine  of  the  day,  a  quarter  from  which, 
under  later  editorships,  it  would  have  least  been 
looked  for.  Undeterred  by  open  attack  or  significant 
silence,  my  father  still  held  on  in  the  course  which 
he  had  marked  out  for  himself,  and  the  completion 
of  the  "  History  of  Early  Christianity"  did  but  set 
him  free  to  lay  the  foundations  of  his  greatest 
work,  the  "  History  of  Latin  Christianity,"  which 
has  been  described  as  being  in  fact  "a  complete 
epic  and  philosophy  of  mediaeval  Christendom." 

Pressed  by  inexorable  parochial  cares,  deep,  but 
not  lost,  in  historical  investigations,  my  father  was 
still  keenly  alive  to  all  the  current  interests  of  the 
time,  and,  as  well  through  the  Quarterly  Review 
as  by  constant  intercourse  with  his  friends,  kept 
in  touch  with  them.  His  mind  dwelt  much  upon 
the  subject  of  Education  ;  and  an  article  of  his 
upon  the  <%  Education  of  the  People,"  especially 
as  appearing  in  so  conservative  an  organ  as  the 
Quarterly  Review,  seems  to  have  attracted  particular 
attention,  and  to  have  had  a  considerable  influence. 
Under  date  of  November,  1846,  Mr.  Leonard  Horner 
writes  : — 

The  article  in  the  Quarterly  on  Education  is 
by  Milman.  I  talked  with  him  about  it,  and  he 
admitted  his  being  the  author.  I  told  him  that  he 
had  rendered  a  great  service  to  the  cause,  and  had 
greatly  smoothed  the  way  for  Lord  John.  Much 

10 


146  WESTMINSTER  SCHOOL  [CHAP. 

as  that  great  step  of  the  Government  is  wanted,  I 
wish  that  it  could  be  postponed  until  after  the  next 
election,  for  anything  that  will  satisfy  the  Dissenters 
will  be  objected  to  by  the  Church,  and  vice  versa. 

But  the  measures  which  were  carried  for  the 
advancement  of  elementary  instruction  were  for 
nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  little  more  than 
tentative,  and  a  general  system  of  State  education, 
such  as  was  adumbrated  in  this  article,  had  to  wait 
for  the  Act  of  1870. 

During  the  years  of  his  residence  in  the  Cloisters, 
my  father  always  took  a  great  interest  in  West- 
minster School,  of  which  the  Dean  and  Chapter 
were  then  the  responsible  governors,  and  to  which 
he  had  sent  his  own  sons.  The  school  was  not 
in  a  very  flourishing  condition,  and  I  remember 
that,  when  the  question  of  reviving  the  annual  boat 
race  with  Eton  was  under  discussion,  he  strongly 
advised  the  headmaster  to  give  his  consent,  arguing 
that,  if  Westminster  could  beat  her  rival  in  nothing 
else,  it  should  do  so  at  least  on  the  river — a  result 
which,  I  may  add  so  long  afterwards,  his  sons  on 
more  than  one  occasion  helped  to  bring  about. 
Partly  for  the  same  reason,  to  keep  the  school 
before  the  world,  but  more  from  the  familiarity 
which  it  gave  the  boys  with  colloquial  Latinity,  he 
was  also  a  strenuous  supporter  of  the  old  custom 
which  provided  for  the  annual  performance  at 
Christmas-time  of  a  play  of  Terence  by  the  Queen 
scholars  on  a  stage  erected  in  the  dormitory.  These 
performances  he  not  only  himself  attended,  but 


vi.]  THE  WESTMINSTER   PLAY  147 

used  generally  to  invite  a  select  party  of  his  friends 
to  accompany  him.  There,  with  Macaulay,  Miss 
Berry  (Horace  Walpole's  Miss  Berry),  and  many 
others,  his  old  friend  Dr.  Hawtrey,  headmaster  and 
afterwards  provost  of  Eton,  might  regularly  be  seen, 
on  the  watch,  it  was  always  averred,  as  a  malicious 
Etonian,  for  a  false  quantity  in  the  somewhat  canine 
Latinity  of  the  Epilogue,  and  giving  vent  to  his 
feelings  in  a  low,  but  to  the  actors  appalling,  whistle, 
if  he  caught,  or  thought  he  caught,  a  halting  number. 
A  few  lines  by  the  late  Dean  of  Christchurch, 
Dr.  Liddell,  who  became  headmaster  of  the  school 
two  or  three  years  before  my  father  was  moved  to 
St.  Paul's,  inserted  in  the  Prologue  to  the  Andria, 
represented  in  1850,  may  be  given  as  a  reminiscence 
of  my  father's  connection  with  the  school,  and  as 
an  appreciation  of  the  help  which  his  support  had 
been  to  the  play  : — 

Nunc  autem  binis  gratulandum  erit  viris, 

Quorum  unus  nuper  his  discessit  sedibus, 

Alter*  in  illius  merit6  successit  locum. 

Illi  qui  nunc  germanam  huic  nostrae  Ecclesiam 

Regit  Praefectus,  gratulamur  unice  : 

His  ille  ludis  semper  adfuit  favens, 

Puerilibusque  indulsit  his  conatibus, 

Judex  praeclarus,  quippe  qui  cantu  suo 

Musam  Sophocleum  suscitare  noverit. 

Necdum  consenuit  studium  ;  namque  (ut  caetera 

Omittam,  historica,  critica)jam  in  nostras  manus 

Venusinum  sic,  uti  vixit,  vatem  tradidit, 

Et  tanquam  in  speculo  mores  exhibuit  viri, 

Po£ta  poetam  dignus  qui  illustraverit. 

*  Dr.  Cureton,  my  father's  successor  at  St.  Margaret's. 


148  MRS.   AUSTIN  [CHAP. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Correspondence  with  Mrs.  Austin — Letter  from  Mr.  Everett — Over- 
worked— Domestic  Sorrow — Nominated  to  the  Deanery  of  St. 
Paul's — Congratulations. 

AFTER  his  removal  to  London  my  father's  life 
was  cast  so  much  among  his  friends,  literary 
correspondence  was  so  completely  superseded  by 
personal  intercourse,  that  it  is  impossible  to  construct 
any  consecutive  narrative  out  of  such  few  of  his 
letters  as  may  have  survived.  Some  of  these, 
however,  even  if  abruptly  introduced,  and  with  no 
rigid  adherence  to  chronological  arrangement,  may 
still,  I  think,  be  read  with  interest,  and  none  more 
so  than  those  to  his  old  and  attached  friend  Mrs. 
Austin,  wife  of  the  distinguished  jurist  Mr.  John 
Austin,  and  perhaps  best  generally  known  as  the 
accomplished  translator  of  Ranke's  "  History  of  the 
Popes  " — a  lady  who,  not  only  by  her  own  writings, 
but  by  her  intimate  personal  acquaintance  with 
the  leading  literary  characters  in  Germany  and  in 
France,  so  largely  contributed  to  the  knowledge  and 
appreciation  of  foreign,  especially  of  German,  litera- 
ture in  this  country. 

On  returning  from  his  usual  summer  or  autumn 
holiday,   my  father  had  found   a   long   letter  from 


VIL]  THE   ARCHBISHOP   OF   ERLAU  149 

Mrs.  Austin,  written  from  Dresden,  where  she 
was  then  residing,  full  of  entertaining  particulars 
of  persons  and  places  that  she  had  seen,  and 
consulting  my  father  on  the  choice  of  a  German 
work  for  translation.  This,  as  a  specimen,  is  her 
account  of  an  Hungarian  archbishop  and  poet  : — 

My  beloved  Archbishop  has  most  earnestly  invited 
us  to  visit  him  at  Erlau  ;  and  if  this  banishment 
from  England  is  to  continue,  it  is  not  impossible 
we  may  go.  I  shall  not  write  a  "  City  of  the 
Magyar,"  but  I  will  tell  you  something  of  what  I 
see.  For  my  soul's  sake  I  almost  hope  to  go. 
I  never  before  saw  a  human  being  in  whom  the 
whole  spirit  of  Christ's  teaching  and  example 
appeared  to  me  so  manifested,  so  unmixed  with  the 
thousand  counter-precepts  and  exigencies  of  the 
world.  He  seems  to  live  and  move  in  an  atmo- 
sphere of  sanctity  and  benevolence  and  humility 
which  even  the  grossest  and  rudest  natures  feel  and 
do  homage  to.  In  Germany  he  is  better  known  as 
the  poet  Pyrker.*  I  have  met  with  no  foreigner 
who  had  such  a  keen  enjoyment  and  such  a  nice 
discrimination  of  English  poetry.  How  you  would 
like  each  other!  I  talked  to  him  of  you.  He  is 
firmly  persuaded,  good  man,  that  England  is  fast 
returning  to  the  bosom  of  the  Mother  Church,  and 
takes  a  great  interest  in  Puseyism.  This  illusion 
is  extremely  common,  I  might  say  universal,  among 
the  Catholics  of  the  Continent — the  Poles  especially, 
who  are  generally  very  zealous,  of  course  as  being 
a  persecuted  people.  We  had  a  specimen  of  a 
Puseyite  at  Carlsbad  fitted  to  undeceive  them — 

Mr. .     At  his  request  I  introduced  him  to  the 

Archbishop.     In  five  minutes  I   turned  round  and 

*  Job.  Ladislaw  Pyrker,  1772-1847.     A  collected   edition  of   his 
poetical  works  was  published  in  three  volumes  at  Stuttgart,  1832. 


150  A  VISIT  TO   TENBY  [CHAP. 

found  him  demonstrating  to  the  mild  and  venerable 
man  that  the  English  Church  was  the  true  and  only 
Catholic  Church.  "  Der  ist  ein  beharrliche  Pfaffe," 
said  a  man  to  Lady  William. 

My  father's  answer  follows  : — 

CLOISTERS,  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY, 
November  \$th,  1841. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  AUSTIN, — 

Most  sincerely  do  I  thank  you  for  your 
interesting  letter, — interesting,  as  expressive  of  your 
kindly  feelings  towards  me  and  mine  ;  interesting, 
as  giving  me  intelligence  of  yourself  and  Mr. 
Austin ;  and  interesting  for  its  notices  of  your 
German  friends  and  acquaintance.  .  .  .  What 
temptations  you  hold  out  in  Dresden !  If  I  had  no 
ties  of  duty  or  of  domestic  love  at  home,  nothing 
would  delight  me  more  than  weeks  with  the 
Raffaelles  and  Correggios  of  the  gallery  for  my 
morning  orisons,  and  yourself  with  some  of  your 
agreeable  and  accomplished  friends  in  the  evening. 
But  of  course  we  are  settled  for  the  winter,  and  I 
have  much  misgiving  as  to  our  future  movements  in 
summer,  at  least  at  present,  allowing  us  to  take  a 
long  flight.  My  poor  little  girl,  now  my  only  girl, 
is  still  an  invalid.  I  fear  she  may  be  some  time 
almost  helplessly  so,  though  I  hope  for  the  best. 
We  passed  the  summer  at  a  very  pretty  watering- 
place  in  South  Wales — Tenby — where  she  seemed 
rapidly  improving  ;  but  the  mistimed  accident  of  a 
bilious  attack  threw  her  back  completely.  We  had 
gone  to  Tenby,  in  evil  hour,  by  sea.  Happily,  I  took 
my  carriage,  and  was  thus  enabled  to  make  my  way 
back  through  a  most  lovely  country  by  land,  and  to 
visit  some  few  friends.  Tenby  we  liked  much.  We 
wandered  about  the  rocks  with  our  boys,  whom  we 
begin  to  think  the  best  society,  and  literally  neither 
knew  nor  hardly  made  acquaintance  with  a  soul. 


vii.]  BISHOP   THIRLWALL  151 

Our  first  resting-place  on  our  return  was 
Abergwili,  the  delightful  house  of  our  friend  the 
Bishop  of  St.  David's.  Are  you  so  far  gone  that 
you  will  not  admit  a  Protestant  Bishop  to  rival  at 
least  the  Catholic  Bishop,  if  not  the  Archbishop,  of 
your  affections  ?  It  is  a  very  remarkable  thing  to 
find  Thirlwall,  with  the  habits  of  mind  which  you 
well  know,  bending  himself,  and  gracefully  bending 
himself,  into  a  very  useful  and  popular  Welsh  Bishop. 
His  fluency  in  Welsh,  and  the  rapidity  with  which 
he  has  learned  it,  is  surprising  ;  and  the  golden 
opinions  which  it  has  won  him  may  be  supposed. 
Happily,  too,  he  has  followed  a  cold,  shy,  aristo- 
cratical  prelate,  who  had  a  morbid  dislike  to  his 
rude  clergy.  Thirlwall  has  seen  at  once  that  the 
worst  way  to  make  men  gentlemen  is  to  show 
that  you  think  them  otherwise.  Even  ordinary 
acts  of  courtesy  make  a  most  favourable  impression. 
But  though  he  has  a  most  charming  residence  in 
the  vale  of  the  Towy,  with  the  blue  river  at  the 
end  of  his  lawn,  and  romantic  hills  all  around,  and 
he  has  a  very  keen  enjoyment  of  natural  scenery,  it 
is  impossible  not  to  see  that  he  is  oppressed  by 
uncongenial  business,  pining  after  congenial  society, 
and  looking  with  a  longing  eye  at  books  which  are 
surprised  to  find  themselves  so  long  undisturbed  on 
his  shelves.  He  was  most  hospitable,  and  we  were 
tempted  to  stay  two  or  three  days  longer  than  we 
had  contemplated.  From  him  we  went  for  two  days 
to  a  splendid  house,  in  point  of  situation  and  comfort, 
of  Lord  Cawdor's — Golden  Grove.  It  is  built  in 
another  part  of  the  grounds,  but  on  the  same  estate 
to  which  Jeremy  Taylor  retired  during  the  troubles 
under  the  wing  of  his  patron,  Lord  Carbery.  We 
then  made  our  way  slowly  through  the  lovely 
scenery  of  Carmarthenshire  and  Monmouthshire  to 
Gloucester,  and  so  to  Bowood.  Both  Lord  and 
Lady  Lansdowne  were  well.  He  is  unquestionably 


152  BOWOOD  [CHAP. 

aged,  and  I  think  his  friends  must  rejoice  at  his 
release  from  the  toil  of  office.  Lady  Lansdowne 
was,  as  ever,  the  very  embodied  spirit  of  kindness  ; 
her  affectionate  warmth  to  my  wife  (I  can  use  no 
other  word),  and  her  exceeding  interest  in  my  poor 
girl,  I  can  never  forget. 

We  have  been  in  town  about  three  weeks,  but 
have  found  our  own  fireside  so  pleasant,  and  Mrs. 
Milman  is  so  little  inclined  to  leave  her  patient, 
that  we  have  seen  few  of  our  friends,  Sydney  is 
in  town,  and,  as  usual,  the  air  is  resonant  with  his 
witticisms  ;  but  we  have  not  been  fortunate  about 
meeting  him.  We  invited  him  to  dinner  this  very 
day  ;  his  excuse  was  that  he  was  engaged  to  two 
giddy  young  girls  named  Berry.  This  implies, 
what  I  hear  from  other  quarters,  that  these  good 
friends,  whom  with  your  daughter  and  Sir  Alexander 
we  just  missed  at  Bowood,  are  in  high  health  and 
enjoyment  of  their  ever-renewed  youth. 

As  to  our  public  affairs,  in  which  Mr.  Austin  may 
feel  interest,  there  is  little  to  communicate.  The 
Ministry  and  their  friends  feel  strong  and  confident. 
Matters  have  turned  out  well  for  them.  Of  course, 
as  their  predecessors  would,  they  take  all  the  credit 
of  giving  an  heir-apparent  to  the  country.  The 
peaceful  turn  of  affairs  in  America  is  of  great 
importance,  and  to  those  who  are  like  myself 
inclined  to  Quaker  opinions  about  war  is  matter 
of  rejoicing.  As  for  the  smaller  misfortunes,  the 
Exchequer  affair  is  all  thrown  on  the  shoulders  of 
our  friend  Lord  Monteagle,  who,  thinking  that  he 
had  subsided  into  a  quiet  well-paid  sinecure,  finds 
himself  involved  in  this  embarrassing  business. 
"  Rob  me  the  Exchequer,  Hal,"  seems  to  have 
come  to  pass.  The  fire  in  the  Tower  has  settled  a 
question  which  was  beginning  to  make  some  stir, 
and  it  is  now  agreed  that  nothing  could  be  worse 
than  our  muskets,  now  they  are  all  burned. 


vii.]  GERMAN   LITERATURE  153 

Enough  of  our  affairs.  Now  for  Germany  and 
literature,  and  yourself.  I  wish  that  I  could  make 
up  my  mind  how  to  advise  you  in  the  work  of 
translation.  The  difficulty  is  to  find  a  book  which 
is  intrinsically  good  and  likely  to  be  popular — I  do 
not  mean  in  the  vulgar  sense,  but  which  will  be 
acceptable  to  the  better  order  of  English  readers. 
I  agree  with  you  about  Schlosser,  but  he  will  not 
suit  our  atmosphere.  He  is  a  sour  fellow  at 
bottom,  though  very  shrewd  and  clever — con- 
temptuous, often,  of  men  better  than  himself. 
Ranke's  "  Fursten  "  will  not  cost  you  much  trouble, 
and  his  name,  I  think,  must  now  stand  so  well  with 
us,  that  the  volume  will,  I  doubt  not,  succeed,  as  far 
as  any  book  will  at  present  which  has  no  bearing  on 
our  modern  controversies.  I  have  just  got  Ammon's 
book.  The  title  had  entirely  misled  me,  or  I  mis- 
construed the  title.  I  supposed  that  it  was  an 
historical  disquisition  on  the  change  of  Christianity 
into  the  religion  of  the  world — that  it  related  to  the 
past.  I  find  that  it  is  speculative  and  prospective — 
a  view  of  Christianity  so  modified  as  to  be  a 
religion  der  Vernunft.  Though  I  am  rather  dis- 
appointed at  not  finding  what  I  expected,  I  am  very 
anxious  to  read  the  book.  I  see  that,  though  you 
are  so  far  gone  with  your  Catholic  Prelates  or 
aspirants  to  Prelacy,  you  have  some  room  for  a 
worthy  and  pious  Materialist  such  as  Ammon  *  would 
be  thought.  But  do  you  bring  them  together  ?  Will 
they  meet  in  friendly  intercourse  under  your  harmon- 
izing influence  ?  I  do  not  think  that  we  are  all  quite 
prepared  for  the  change  anticipated  by  your  Roman 
Catholic  friends.  My  worthy  diocesan,  Charles 
James,  does  not  seem  inclined  to  take  refuge  from 
the  onslaught  of  Sydney  in  the  bosom  of  our  ancient 

*  Christopher  Friedrich  Ammon,  Protestant  theologian,  1766-1850. 
The  title  of  the  book  referred  to  is  "  Fortbildung  des  Christenthums 
zur  Weltreligion." 


RELIGIOUS  AND   IRRELIGIOUS   BELIEF  [CHAP. 

Mother.  He  protests  against  Oxford.  On  one  of 
his  refractory  Puseyite  and  more  than  Puseyite 
clergy  quoting  the  authority  of  St.  Ambrose,  he 
replied,  "  Sir,  St.  Ambrose  was  not  Bishop  of 
London,  and  I  am.  Yours,  etc."  A  certain  Mr. 
Sibthorp,  brother  of  the  Tory  Colonel,  has,  how- 
ever, taken  the  perilous  step — to  the  great  alarm  of 
Oxford,  whence  Sewell  writes  word  that  "  they  are 
in  an  awful  state."  Sibthorp  has  gone  round  the 
compass,  having  been  a  violent  Evangelical,  and,  as 
I  hear,  Radical  at  Ryde.  He  is  not  a  man  of  much 
talent ;  but  all  converts  to  all  forms  of  faith  become 
at  once  the  most  learned  and  the  most  pious  among 
those  whom  they  join,  while  they  sink  to  idiots  or 
dolts  among  those  they  leave.  What  a  curious  and 
most  instructive  book  might  be  made,  if  it  could  be 
done  by  any  single  hand,  of  the  state  of  religious 
and  irreligious  belief,  if  the  expression  be  allowed, 
throughout  Europe  !  I  would  begin  with  Germany. 
I  mean  a  simple  dispassionate  survey  of  the  count- 
less schools  and  modifications  of  religious  thought 
and  feeling.  It  would  be  instructive,  I  think,  as  at 
least  allaying  mutual  hostility,  and  showing  that 
unity  of  creed  by  no  means  arises  out  of  or  leads  to 
unity  of  heart— that,  if  they  would  come  together,  we 
should  often  find  men  of  directly  opposite  speculative 
opinions  more  really  accordant  and  congenial  than 
those  who  would  not  scruple  to  sign  the  same 
articles.  It  is  for  this  reason,  as  well  as  many 
others,  that  I  feel  myself  so  much  obliged  to  you  for 
all  the  glimpses  you  give  me  of  the  character  of 
religious  men  and  religious  opinion  in  Germany. 
Bolzano's  works  I  have  never  seen,  and  they  do  not 
appear  to  be  known  among  our  foreign  booksellers. 
I  have  sent  for  the  autobiography.  You  have  no 
doubt  heard  that  they  have  now  two  girls  in  the 
Tyrol  with  the  stigmata,  which  always  bleed  on  the 
Friday.  Lord  Shrewsbury  has  visited  them,  and 


vii.]  AUGUSTIN   THIERRY  155 

sent  out  an  account  of  them.  The  general  descrip- 
tion is  consistent  with  a  complete  case  of  animal 
magnetism.  The  symptoms,  movements,  the  whole 
behaviour — excepting  that  they  are  apparently  simple 
girls  on  whom  strong  religious  impressions  have  been 
made — are  exactly  the  same  as  those  of  Dr.  Elliot- 
son's  damsels  at  London  University.  The  stigmata 
are  not  so  easily  accounted  for  ;  but  if  anything  could 
astonish  one  in  this  changeable  world,  it  would  be 
to  find  such  stories  seriously,  nay  earnestly,  brought 
forward  by  a  British  peer  in  our  day  as  impregnable 
arguments  for  Transubstantiation. 

I  shall  hope  that  you  will  keep  up  the  kind 
practice  of  writing  to  me  ;  for  I  assure  you,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Austin,  that  both  Mrs.  Milman  and 
myself  feel  most  truly  interested  in  all  that  relates 
to  you.  It  is  not  merely  the  selfish  gratification 
of  the  amusement  which  your  letters  afford  us,  but 
from  sincere  regard  for  you  and  Mr.  Austin,  that  I 
express  this  wish. 

And  five  years  later,  my  father  still  writing 
from  the  Cloisters,  the  following  letters  were  inter- 
changed : — 

[No  date.} 

DEAR  MR.  MILMAN, — 

I  need  not  tell  you  what  pleasure  it  gives  me 
to  execute  the  commission  of  my  excellent  friend  the 
Count  de  Circourt.  He  is  a  great  admirer  of  yours, 
and  worthy  to  be  so — a  gentleman  and  a  Christian, 
full  of  knowledge  and  noble  sentiments.  As  to  poor 
Augustin  Thierry,  you  know  his  state — blind  and 
utterly perclus  in  all  his  limbs ;  there  remains  nothing 
active  or  vigorous  about  him  but  his  head  and  his 
heart.  I  have  not  yet  seen  him,  but  I  shall  establish 
on  my  mediation  with  you  a  claim  to  visit  him.  Let 
me  just  add  that  M.  de  Circourt's  brother,  Count 


156  COUNT   ADOLPHE   DE   CIRCOURT         [CHAP. 

Albert  de  C.,  has  lately  published  a  book  on  the 
Moors  in  Spain,  which  I  hear  highly  spoken  of. 
He  (Count  Adolphe)  has  never  even  mentioned  it 
to  me ;  but  if  that  matter  comes  under  your  pen, 
and  if  you  should  chance  to  have  read  and  approved 
the  book,  you  would  certainly  give  him  an  inout 
pleasure  in  naming  it.  Your  little  note  about 
Dunoyer  came  most  opportunely  to  console  him 
in  the  midst  of  a  very  disagreeable  affair  with  the 
Academic,  where  he  is  involved  in  a  feud  with 
Cousin,  Thiers,  &  Co.  They  accuse  him  of  being 
a  mate'rialiste  per  Bacco.  The  impudence  of  men  ! 
I  showed  M.  Guizot  your  judgment  of  that  admirable 
(not  faultless)  book,  and  we  couldn't  help  laughing 
at  the  pious  horror  of  the  metaphysician.  These 
academies  are  real  foyers  of  intrigues  and  cabals 
and  heartburnings.  Witness  poor  de  Vigny — immo- 
lated to  M.  de  Mole's  desire  to  make  up  to  M.  Thiers 
and  the  Imperialists.  While  I  live  I  shall  never 
forget  that  scene.  The  great  lady  of  the  High 

Catholic  party  has  called  on  me(Duchesse  de ), 

the  pink  of  fashion  and  piety ;  so  I  would  have 
you  prepared  for  the  worst.  At  the  other  ear  sits 
Auguste  Comte,  talking  of  the  dangers  to  morality 
from  any  and  all  religion.  He  at  least  is  honest, 
poor  fellow,  and  not  angry  at  seeing  how  little  I  am 
convinced.  We  want  you  here  sometimes  ;  there 
are  many  prepared  to  welcome  you  with  affectionate 
respect.  If  strangers  feel  this,  what  should  I,  who 
know  something  more  of  you  than  your  books,  full 
of  charity,  wisdom,  and  light  ?  If  you  do  not  come, 
I  have  little  hope  of  seeing  you.  I  shall  hardly 
come  to  England,  if  I  can  get  my  children  to  cross 
the  water.  I  have  my  eye  on  Brittany,  where,  as 
well  as  in  Normandy,  we  have  friends  and  serviteurs, 
i.e.  people  kind  enough  to  take  trouble  to  find 
us  what  we  want ;  and  there  I  hope  to  see  all  my 
darlings.  M.  Guizot  is  well.  I  was  there  last  night — 


vii.]  M.    DUNOYER  157 

went  to  present  a  Legitimist  (Vicomte  de  la  Ville- 
marque,  author  of  the  "  Chants  Bretons  "),  together 
with  an  English  naval  officer.  These  seem  like  the 
combinations  of  a  kaleidoscope.  My  health  is  good 
for  nothing,  and  makes  Ranke  very  oppressive. 
Pazienza.  Suppose  you  write  to  poor  Thierry. 
You  know  my  husband's  sentiments  towards  you. 
He  is  tolerably  well. 

Yours,  S.  AUSTIN. 

CLOISTERS,  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY, 
June  btht  1846. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  AUSTIN, — 

I  have  delayed  the  acknowledgment  of  your 
very  friendly  and  acceptable  letter  till  I  could  read 
carefully  and  deliberately  M.  Thierry's  paper,  which 
you  were  so  kind  as  to  send  me  with  M.  de  Circourt's 
letter.  According  to  your  suggestion,  I  enclose  a 
letter  to  M.  Thierry  on  the  subject,  which  I  send 
open  in  case  you  have  any  curiosity  to  read  it,  and 
will  beg  you  afterwards  to  seal  and  forward  either 
directly  or  through  M.  de  Circourt.  To  the  latter 
I  must  beg  you  to  express  my  gratitude  for  the  high 
and  honourable  manner  in  which  he  has  expressed 
himself  on  the  subject  of  my  book.  I  will  imme- 
diately make  enquiries  about  Count  Adolphe  de 
Circourt's  book,  but  hardly  know  how  I  am  likely 
to  wander  upon  Moorish  ground,  so  as  to  be  enabled 
to  notice  it.  You  are  aware  that  I  owe  to  your 
good  husband  my  first  introduction  to  M.  Dunoyer's 
book.  I  read  it  on  his  strong  recommendation,  and 
I  think  came  to  about  the  same  conclusion  as  to  its 
great  merit  and  some  of  its  defects.  I  must  say  that 
your  Frenchmen  of  letters — many  of  them  at  least — 
seem  disposed  to  keep  up  the  proverbial  jealousies 
of  the  fraternity.  I  suppose  M.  Cousin's  spiritual- 
istic orthodoxy  is  delighted  to  find  a  sacrifice  or 
scapegoat  for  the  ultra-ecclesiastical  party,  upon  the 
same  principle  that  questionable  ladies  are  always 


158      VILLEMARQUE'S   "CHANTS   BRETONS"    [CHAP. 

the  most  rigidly  proper  as  to  more  questionable. 
I  have  read  only  the  tmmole1,  not  the  Mole.  I  do 
not  think  that  our  friend  Alfred  de  Vigny  does 
himself  justice ;  the  discourse  is  rather  feeble  and 
lengthy.  Lord  Lansdowne  has  the  Mote,  which  I 
shall  beg  him  to  lend  me,  as  I  fear  that,  although 
I  think  I  could  abstain  from  going  to  an  actual 
execution  by  the  rope  or  the  guillotine,  I  have  not 
quite  suppressed  some  morbid  curiosity  as  to  literary 
public  executions.  Talking  of  questionable  ladies 
(I  mean  no  offence  or  malice),  we  have  here  no  less 
a  person  than  the  Countess  Hahn-Hahn,  who  has 
brought  letters,  as  I  hear,  to  Lady  Lansdowne,  Lady 
Mahon,  etc.,  and  some  of  our  best  society.  I  met  her, 
and  was  specially  desired  by  Hay  ward  and  Milnes  to 
do  the  civilities  of  the  Abbey;  and  Mrs.  Milman  and 
I  and  Lady  Chatterton,  etc.,  showed  all  proper  atten- 
tion to  her  Countess-ship  (who  is  simple,  intelligent, 
and  pleasing  in  manner)  and  to  her  friend  or  cousin, 
Count  Bystram.  All  this  nothing  doubting.  But 
wishing  to  enlighten  my  ignorance  about  her  writings, 
I  got  "  Faustine,"  when  we  were  a  little  startled  by 
the  dedication,  "  an  Bystram."  M.  Villemarque's 
"  Chants  Bretons  "  were  noticed  two  or  three  years 
ago  in  the  Quarterly  Review.  I  had  the  book  by 
the  seaside,  and  amused  my  children  by  doing  some 
of  the  French  (of  the  Breton  I  am  innocent)  into 
doggrel  ballads,  which  pleased  them  so  much  that 
I  launched  my  versions  fearlessly  in  the  Quarterly 
Review. 

Our  own  plans  for  the  summer,  I  fear,  are  little 
likely  to  bring  us  into  that  proximity  which  I  should 
so  much  wish.  My  eldest  Christ  Church  youth  (I 
have  now  a  second  there)  is  to  be  reading  hard  for  his 
degree.  We  must  therefore  settle  quietly  in  some 
remote,  if  possible  picturesque,  neighbourhood.  We 
look  Lakeward,  where  my  boys  may  indulge  their 
passion  for  rowing  and  perform  their  duty  in  reading. 


VIL]  AMERICAN   FRIENDSHIPS  159 

You  will  be  pleased  to  hear  thatyour  friend  Mr.Grote's 
book  has  made  a  very  favourable  impression  both 
on  scholars  and  general  readers,  Madame  is  in  high 
raptures.  I  think  it  a  book  of  a  very  high  order, 
though  of  course  we  have  some  points  of  amicable 
difference.  Pray  give  my  kindest  regards  to  Mr. 
Austin.  Mrs.  Milman  begs  her  love  to  you.  My 
homage  to  M.  Guizot,  who,  I  rejoice  to  see,  still 
maintains  his  own.  We  are  in  a  strange  and  doubtful 
political  state,  but  me  it  moves  not. 
My  dear  Mrs.  Austin, 

Ever  your  very  sincere  friend, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

On  looking  at  M.  de  Circourt's  letter,  I  find,  as  I 
suspected,  that  this  is  Amedee,  not  Augustin,  Thierry. 

During  the  years  of  my  father's  residence  in  the 
Cloisters  (1835-50),  as  afterwards  at  St  Paul's,  his 
society  was  much  sought  by  the  most  eminent  among 
the  numerous  American  authors  and  statesmen  by 
whom  this  country  was  from  time  to  time  visited. 
With  many  of  these  a  cordial  friendship  was  con- 
tracted, and  was  afterwards  maintained  by  an 
affectionate  and  life-long,  though  from  the  nature 
of  the  case  somewhat  intermittent,  correspondence. 
Among  the  more  intimate  and  regular  of  these 
friends  and  correspondents,  the  names  of  Mr. 
Everett,  Mr.  Ticknor,  the  historian  of  Spanish 
literature,  Mr.  Prescott,  Mr.  Bancroft,  and  Mr. 
Motley  may  be  mentioned,  whose  letters,  besides 
being  full  of  interesting  news  from  their  own  side 
of  the  Atlantic,  often  contain  pleasant  reminiscences 
of  morning  or  evening  meetings  at  Westminster 


160  LETTER   FROM   MR.   EVERETT  [CHAP. 

and  St.  Paul's.  The  quiet  home  in  the  Cloisters, 
with  all  its  beautiful  surroundings  and  historical 
associations,  seems  to  have  been  ever  a  great 
attraction,  and  to  have  been  long  remembered. 
Again,  too,  at  St.  Paul's,  after  a  breakfast  at  the 
Deanery  and  visit  to  the  Cathedral,  a  party  would 
be  made  up  to  explore  the  less  well-known  City 
churches,  and  sights,  which  ended  with  the  Tower. 
A  few  of  my  father's  letters  have  been  already 
printed  in  Mr.  Ticknor's  "  Life  of  Prescott"  and  other 
publications  :  place  for  a  few  more,  with  extracts 
from  those  to  which  they  were  an  answer,  may  be 
found  a  little  later  on.  In  the  meantime  this  letter 
from  Mr.  Everett  may  be  inserted,  as  it  contains  an 
interesting  account  of  the  extraordinary  popularity 
with  which  the  first  volumes  of  Macaulay's  "  History 
of  England"  were  received  in  the  United  States  : — 

CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.,  May  2\st,  1849. 
MY    DEAR    MR.    MlLMAN, 

I  employ  an  early  portion  of  the  comparative 
leisure  which  I  have  acquired  in  resigning  my  office 
here  in  writing  to  you,  to  say  how  much  I  regret 
that  I  allowed  the  pressure  of  its  duties  to  prevent 
my  answering  your  kind  letter  of  February  2nd, 
1846,  which,  in  common  with  many  other  letters 
from  kind  and  valued  friends  received  at  that 
period,  still  remains,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  on  my 
unanswered  file.  I  hope  you  will  allow  me,  even 
after  so  long  an  interval,  to  make  up  for  the 
omission,  which  I  am  the  rather  desirous  of  doing 
that  I  may  offer  to  you  and  Mrs.  Milman  the 
assurance  of  the  sincere  sympathy  with  which  we 
have  all  heard  of  your  late  heavy  loss,  a  sorrow  of 


VIL]  POPULARITY   OF   MACAULAY  l6l 

which  we  well  know  by  experience  the  weight  and 
bitterness.* 

You  have  been  of  late  particularly  recalled  to 
my  recollection  by  a  copy  of  your  most  beautiful 
Horace  which  my  wife  and  daughter  gave  me  a 
few  weeks  since  as  a  birthday  present.  I  have  not 
had  time  to  do  more  than  glance  at  the  contents, 
and  can  therefore  at  present  speak  only  of  the 
tasteful  and  fascinating  exterior.  I  mean  that  it 
should  furnish  me  the  occasion  this  summer  of  a 
reperusal  of  this  most  exquisite  of  lyrists,  satirists, 
and  critics.  We  sent  a  copy  yesterday  to  a  young 
friend  who  sails  this  morning  to  Calcutta.  So  that 
if  Horace  knows  what  is  going  on,  he  has  the 
satisfaction  of  perceiving  a  copy  of  his  works,  in 
the  delightful  dress  in  which  you  have  clothed  them, 
sent  from  the  Western  to  the  Eastern  Antipodes — 
to  a  region  of  which  he  knew  little,  from  a  hemi- 
sphere of  which  he  knew  nothing. 

Macaulay's  history  continues  the  rage  with  us, 
for  no  milder  term  expresses  the  intense  popularity 
which  it  enjoys.  There  are  not  wanting  those  who 
echo  the  strain  in  which  it  has  been  criticised  in  the 
Quarterly  (which,  however,  I  know  as  yet  only  by 
report),  but  it  is  like  blowing  against  a  West  India 
hurricane.  I  will  mention  two  little  anecdotes,  that 
fell  within  my  personal  observation  and  knowledge 
last  week,  to  illustrate  the  kind  of  popularity  which 
the  work  has  attained  here.  My  daughter  went  to 
her  dressmaker  the  other  day ;  and  while  waiting 
for  her  to  come  into  the  room,  took  up  the  volume 
which  lay  open  on  the  table,  and  found  it  to  be 
Macaulay.  I  went  to  a  coachmaker's  a  day  or  two 
after,  on  some  matter  of  business  in  his  line.  While 
there  an  old  schoolmate  of  mine  at  one  of  the  free 
schools  in  Boston  came  in.  He  was  bred  a  tinplate- 
worker,  and  is  now  the  acting  agent  of  a  gas 

*  The  death  of  their  youngest  son,  Charles  Louis  Hart. 

II 


162  MACREADY   IN   AMERICA  [CHAP. 

company,  to  superintend  the  introduction  of  gas 
fixtures  into  dwelling-houses.  He  told  me  he  had 
just  taken  up  Macaulay,  and  asked  me  how  I  liked 
it.  When  I  mention  these  little  incidents,  as  show- 
ing the  kind  of  popularity  of  Macaulay's  book,  I 
do  not  of  course  mean  that  it  is  confined  to  this 
class  of  readers,  but  to  show  you  how  completely  it 
has  taken  hold  of  the  entire  public  mind.  I  might 
add  that  at  the  semi-annual  visitation  of  the  collegiate 
branch  of  the  University  here,  about  three  weeks 
since,  one  of  the  young  men  delivered  a  dissertation 
of  which  M.'s  history  was  the  subject,  and  another 
made  it  his  principal  topic.  These  are  but  specimens 
of  what  has  taken  place  throughout  the  continent. 

I  went  last  evening  to  hear  Macready  read  from 
"  Paradise  Lost"  in  a  small  private  circle.  He  has 
conducted  himself  through  the  whole  of  the  frightful 
scenes  in  New  York  like  a  gentleman.  The  public 
voice  is  very  strongly  and  generally  in  his  favour. 
No  one  indeed  blames  him  for  anything.  A  few, 
disposed  to  ingratiate  themselves  with  the  execrable 
faction  who  assaulted  him,  cavil  at  the  course 
pursued  by  the  police  and  the  military,  which, 
however,  was  upon  the  whole  praiseworthy.  He 
returns  in  the  vessel  which  brings  you  this  letter. 

I  send  you  a  late  publication  of  my  neighbour 
Longfellow.  I  have  not  read  it,  but  I  am  told  it 
is  pretty. 

And  now,  my  dear  Mr.  Milman,  should  you  have 
the  kindness  to  write  me  again,  I  will  not  let  your 
letter  remain  three  years  unanswered.  I  pray  you 
remember  us  all  most  kindly  to  Mrs.  M.,  and  believe 
me,  with  sincere  regard, 

Most  truly  yours, 

EDWARD  EVERETT. 

In  1836,  on  February  23rd,  my  father  had  been 
elected  a  member  of  the  Club. 


vii.]  THE   CLUB  163 

I  am  rather  proud  [he  writes]  of  having  been 
elected  a  member  of  the  Club — old  Johnson's 
famous  club  :  I  suspect  in  the  place  of  old  Lord 
Stowell.  Hallam  and  Lord  Mahon  proposed  and 
seconded  me.  It  must  be  an  unanimous  election  : 
one  black  ball  excludes. 


At  the    dinners   of  the    Club,  of  which  he  was 
afterwards  for  some  years  treasurer,*  my  father  was 
a  very  regular  attendant,  and  there  were  few  social 
gatherings  from  which  he  derived  greater  pleasure, 
meeting  as  he  did  there  on  terms  of  easy  familiarity 
all  those  of  the  day  most  eminent  for  social  qualities, 
most   distinguished    in   politics,    literature,    science, 
and  art.     His  own  circle  of  friends  was  ever  widen- 
ing, and  a  list  of  them  would  embrace   many   of 
whom  the  mere  names  would  awaken  a  crowd  of 
interesting  memories.     The  old  walnut  staircase,  the 
most   beautiful   and   characteristic  feature  in   Ash- 
burnham     House,    has    already    been     mentioned. 
Lighted    from   above   by   a   circular   dome,    round 
which   ran   an   open   gallery,   with   its  ornamented 
balustrade,  and   low,  broad,  polished  steps,  it  was 
always  much  admired,  and  we  used  often  as  boys  to 
watch  my  father's  guests  as  they  cautiously  mounted 
the  slippery  flight  to  the  reception-rooms  which  were 
on  the  first  floor.     Not   unfrequent  among  these, 
in    the   years  from    1835   to    1850,  might   be  seen 
Lord  and  Lady  Lansdowne,  ever  kind  and  constant 

*  He  was  elected  treasurer  June,  1841,  and  continued  to  fill  the 
office  until  his  resignation  in  June,  1864.  He  presided  at  the 
centenary  dinner  of  the  Club,  June  7th,  1864. 


1 64  SOCIETY   IN   THE   CLOISTERS  [CHAP. 

friends  of  my  father  and  mother  ;  Lord  Carlisle,  then 
Lord  Morpeth ;  old  Mr.  Rogers,  with  his  quiet,  pale 
face  *  ;  Hallam,  Macaulay,  Dr.  Holland,  Sydney 
Smith,  the  Lyells,  the  Murchisons,  the  Eastlakes, 
and  others.  And  when  Sydney  Smith  was  of  the 
party,  I  well  remember  how  we  used  to  listen  for 
the  unextinguishable  shouts  of  laughter  which  were 
heard  proceeding  from  the  dining-room,  whenever 
the  exigencies  of  service  required  an  open  door. 
The  forms  of  these  and  of  many  more  appear 
like  shadows  out  of  the  dim  past,  as  they  pass  up 
the  old  staircase  and  vanish  through  the  pillared 
archway. 

Looking  back,  the  years  at  Westminster  may 
seem  to  have  been  to  my  father,  on  the  whole,  happy 
years — years  full,  even  too  full,  of  intellectual  life 
and  of  labour,  by  which  a  severe  strain  was  put 
upon  his  health  and  strength.  And  "  happy  years  " 
is  an  expression  that  perhaps  should  not  be  used 
without  qualification,  marked  as  they  were  by  a 
succession  of  domestic  losses,  which  touched  his 
sensitive  and  affectionate  heart  to  the  quick,  and 
were  the  cause  of  life-long  sorrow.  He  had 
brought  with  him  from  Reading  a  family  of  five 
children,  three  sons  and  two  danghters :  another 
child,  a  boy  much  younger  than  the  rest,  had  been 
born  in  the  Cloisters  in  1845.  Of  these,  three,  the 

*  "They  have  got  a  Panorama  of  Jerusalem.  Lockhart  met 
Sydney  Smith  there.  '  Quite  perfect,'  said  Sydney ;  '  it  only  wants 
one  thing— Rogers  to  be  seen  bathing  in  the  Dead  Sea.'  I  should 
have  said  the  Dead  Sea  is  seen  in  the  distance." — Extract  from 
letter. 


vii.]  DOMESTIC   SORROWS  165 

two  daughters,  not  released  without  long  suffering, 
and  the  little  boy,  lie  buried  in  the  north  aisle  of 
the  nave  of  the  Abbey.  Describing  in  "  Samor  " 
an  assembly  on  the  site  of  modern  Westminster, 
my  father  had  written  : — 

Still  that  deep  dwelling  underneath  the  earth 

Its  high  and  ancient  privilege  maintains, 

Dark  palace  of  our  island's  parted  kings, 

Earth-ceil'd  pavilion  of  our  brave  and  wise. 

Disus'd  for  two  long  ages,  it  became 

The  pavement  of  our  sumptuous  minster  fair, 

That  ever  and  anon  yet  gathers  in 

King,  conqueror,  poet,  orator,  or  sage 

To  her  stone  chambers,  there  to  sleep  the  sleep 

That  wakens  only  at  the  archangel's  trump. 

And  he  adds  in  a  note  to  a  later  edition  : — 

•«•  Little  did  I  foresee,  when  I  wrote  this  as  a  youth, 
that,  long  years  after,  at  a  time  that  I  should  be 
correcting  it  for  republication,  I  should  lay  to  rest 
in  this  hallowed  place  (Westminster  Abbey)  a  lovely 
little  girl,  whose  early  intelligence  gave  me  the  fond 
hope  that  she  would  hereafter  take  an  interest  in 
my  pursuits,  and  love  my  poetry,  at  least  because 
it  was  her  father's : — 

My  child !  my  child !  among  the  great  and  wise 
Thou'st  had  thy  peaceful  solemn  obsequies. 
Seem'st  thou  misplac'd  in  that  fam'd  company  ? 
Heaven's  kingdom  is  made  up  of  such  as  thee. 

February  2nd,  1839. 

This  was  the  little  girl  of  whom  Miss  Mitford 
observed  "  that  her  hand  was  always  in  her 
father's."  Twice  the  grave  was  reopened ;  twice 
with  accumulating  force  the  grief  was  renewed. 


1  66  HIS   CHILDREN'S   GRAVE  [CHAP. 

His  eldest   daughter   died   in    1841,  the  little   boy 
in   1849.* 

In  the  affection  of  those  who  remained  to  him, 
and  in  untiring  work  alone,  he,  humanly  speaking, 
found  surcease  of  sorrow.  But  the  strain  upon  his 
strength  and  courage  was  too  great.  His  friends 
used  sometimes  to  tell  him  that  he  lived  three 


*  The  grave  was  for  many  years  covered  by  a  simple  uninscribed 
stone,  distinguished  only  by  a  little  cross  of  white  marble  ;  but  after 
my  father's  death  Dean  Stanley  thought  that  the  names  of  its 
tenants  should  be  recorded,  if  but  to  mark  my  father's  former 
connection  with  the  Abbey,  and  caused  this  inscription  to  be 
engraved  :  — 

LOUIS    HART,     DIED     19     FEBRUARY, 


g                            THIS  STONE  g 

WAS    PLACED    OVER    THE    GRAVE  *** 

^                OF  THREE  BELOVED   CHILDREN  ^ 

g       OF    HENRY    HART    MILMAN,  | 

SOMETIME   CANON  $ 

£  « 
&                OF  THIS  COLLEGIATE   CHURCH, 

w-  THEN   DEAN   OF  ST.   PAUL'S, 

£       AND  OF  MARY  ANNE   HIS  WIFE,  "o 

WHO  AFTER  A   BLESSED   UNION 

§» 
OF   FORTY-FOUR  YEARS 

REST  TOGETHER 

W  G 

IN   THE   CRYPT   OF  HIS   CATHEDRAL.  £ 


When  we  mourn  the  lost,  the  dear, 
3  Gracious  Son  of  Mary,  hear. 

July  I,  1871. 


vii.]  OVERWORKED  167 

lives,  any  one  of  which  was  more  than  sufficient 
for  average  endurance :  the  life  of  a  hard-worked 
clergyman,  the  life  of  a  man  of  letters,  the  life 
of  one  who  was  almost  enforcedly  overwhelmed 
by  social  engagements.  So  tried,  there  could  be 
no  doubt  that  my  father  had  reached  a  period  of 
life  in  which  some  complete  change,  some  diminution 
of  work,  was  on  all  accounts  desirable ;  but  in  what 
manner  such  change  would  be  brought  about,  if 
brought  about  at  all,  it  was  impossible  to  foresee. 
Preferment  after  preferment  indeed,  as  it  fell  vacant, 
was  assigned  to  him  by  popular  rumour ;  but  if 
man  in  the  form  of  popular  rumour  proposes,  the 
Minister  disposes,  and  for  a  long  time  nothing 
came  of  those  reports.  There  is,  I  believe,  no 
doubt  that  Lord  Melbourne,  in  comparatively  early 
days,  had  wished  to  recommend  him  for  a  bishopric, 
but  in  his  easy-going  way  had  been  deterred  from 
doing  so,  when  it  was  represented  to  him  by  the 
Bishop  of  London  (Blomfield)  that  such  an  appoint- 
ment would  cause  trouble  and  give  umbrage  to 
the  Church.  How  far  this  prognostic  would  have 
been  justified,  or  how  far  it  would  have  fulfilled 
itself,  it  is  needless  now  to  speculate ;  but  there 
was  certainly  scarcely  a  murmur  of  displeasure 
when  at  last,  in  1849,  my  father  was  nominated 
by  Lord  John  Russell  to  the  Deanery  of  St.  Paul's, 
which  had  become  vacant  by  the  death  of  Dr. 
Copleston,  who  had  held  the  Deanery  for-  many 
years  in  conjunction  with  the  Bishopric  of  LlandafT. 
There  was,  I  think,  a  general  feeling  that  the 


1 68  DEAN   OF   ST.    PAUL'S  [CHAP. 

right  man  had  been  put  in  the  right  place.  To 
my  father  himself  I  believe  that,  reluctant  though 
he  might  be  to  leave  his  home  in  the  Cloisters, 
and  the  Abbey  to  which  he  was  bound  by  so 
many  dear  memories,  preferment  could  scarcely 
have  come  in  a  more  acceptable  form,  securing 
to  him  as  it  did  a  well-earned,  honourable  repose, 
and  enabling  him  thenceforward  to  devote  himself 
more  uninterruptedly  to  the  completion  of  the 
great  work  upon  which  he  was  engaged,  the 
"  History  of  Latin  Christianity."  On  receiving 
the  offer,  a  sigh  of  relief  escaped  from  his  lips  as 
he  looked  up  in  my  mother's  face  and  said,  "  Thank 
goodness  !  No  more  vestries  !  " — a  slight  expression, 
but  to  those  who  knew  him  a  sign  of  how  much 
the  harassing  and,  in  spite  of  the  support  which 
he  almost  invariably  obtained  from  his  parishioners, 
the  somewhat  ungrateful  business  transacted  at 
their  meetings  had,  with  other  innumerable  duties, 
weighed  upon  him,  though  he  never  betrayed  his 
weariness.  Congratulations,  after  the  appointment 
was  announced,  came  pouring  in  from  all  quarters — 
from  persons  representing  all  classes  and  all  parties. 
In  those  from  his  colleagues  and  friends  in  the 
Chapter  of  Westminster  and  at  St.  Margaret's  were 
mingled  expressions  of  sincere  regret  at  his  loss. 
For  instance,  Mr.  Page  Wood,  afterwards  Lord 
Chancellor  Hatherley,  a  valued  friend,  a  constant 
member  of  his  congregation  at  St.  Margaret's,  a 
devoted  furtherer  of  all  good  works  in  the  parish, 
thus  wrote : — 


vii.]  CONGRATULATIONS  169 

12,  GREAT  GEORGE  STREET, 
October  2$th,  1849. 

A  day  or  two  after  we  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
you  at  Oxford,  we  heard  from  good  authority  that 
you  were  to  be  the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  It  is  now 
publicly  announced  ;  and  though  I  may  not  yet 
address  you  as  "  Mr.  Dean/'  I  will  not  let  a  post 
pass  without  expressing  the  unfeigned  satisfaction 
with  which  Mrs.  Wood  and  myself  heard  the 
intelligence. 

We  have  received  your  kind  sympathy  in  sorrow, 
and  have,  I  hope,  sincerely  mourned  with  you  in 
your  trials.  It  is  a  more  cheerful  duty  to  "  rejoice 
with  those  who  do  rejoice,"  and  I  trust  that  for 
many  years  Mrs.  Milman  and  yourself  may  enjoy 
the  comparative  leisure  which  will  now  be  permitted 
to  you. 

We   have   indeed    on    our   part   to   regret   your 

removal  to  a  more  distant  part  of  London,  but   I 

trust  that  we    may  still  be  permitted   to   retain  a 

friendship  which  we  shall  ever  value,  and  believe  me 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

W.  P.  WOOD. 

Mrs.  Sydney  Smith,  the  widow  of  his  old  friend 
the  witty  Canon,  spoke  of  the— 

unfeigned  delight  with  which  it  [the  appointment] 
would  have  been  received  by  my  beloved  husband, 
of  whose  real  regard  both  for  you  and  Mrs.  Milman 
I  am  sure  you  must  both  of  you  be  well  aware. 
Himself  for  many  years  past  wholly  unambitious 
(though  very  sensible  of  the  results  of  that  situation 
he  did  hold  in  the  increased  enjoyments  it  afforded 
to  his  old  age),  was  exactly  in  a  position  to  rejoice 
at  what  might  befall  his  friends,  without  the  remotest 
wish  to  become  their  rival.  The  Garden  of  Eden 
without  its  serpent  for  his  summer's  enjoyment,  and 


I  70    MRS.  SYDNEY  SMITH  AND  DR.  HAWTREY   [CHAR 

the  abundant  means  afforded  him  for  intellectual 
society  in  winter,  left  him  (what  I  believe  very 
few  human  beings  are)  without  a  wish  ungratified, 
and  nothing  that  this  world  had  to  offer  would  have 
tempted  him  to  have  foregone  so  much  positive 
good,  entailing  only  just  so  much  of  business  as 
made  it  agreeable. 

But  one  more  quotation,  a  tribute  from  one  who 
knew  my  father  well,  his  old  friend  Dr.  Hawtrey, 
may  be  introduced  : — 

ETON  COLLEGE, 

October  2\st,  1849. 
MY    DEAR    MlLMAN, 

I  heard  yesterday  with  great  delight  of  the 
choice  which  Government  has  made  for  the  Deanery 
of  St.  Paul's.  To  my  mind  the  highest  claim  to  the 
dignities  of  a  Christian  Church  is  the  possession  of 
Christian  charity.  It  adorns  every  other  merit ;  it 
covers  every  error  to  which  human  judgment  is  liable. 
I  do  not  speak  of  charity  in  its  vulgar  sense,  but  in 
that  which  was  given  to  it  by  one  of  the  holiest  and 
wisest  of  reasoners  ;  and  I  can  truly  say  that  in  the 
course  of  an  intimacy  drawing  nearly  on  fifty  years  I 
never  knew  a  man  possessed  of  more  of  that  virtue 
than  yourself.  Would  that  it  were  not  so  rare  a 
virtue  !  Believe  me  that  I  have  sympathized  no  less 
in  your  sorrow  than  I  have  in  pleasure  at  an  appoint- 
ment which  I  hope  and  believe  is  just  what  you 
would  have  most  desired.  With  kind  regards  from 
my  sister  to  Mrs.  Milman,  to  which  I  beg  to  join 
my  own, 

I  am,  my  dear  Milman, 

Sincerely  yours, 

E.  HAWTREY. 

Macaulay's  gratification  expressed  itself  more 
concisely. 


vii.]  THE   DEANERY  171 

I  have  been  delighted  [he  writes]  to  hear  of 
Milman's  appointment  to  St.  Paul's — honestly  de- 
lighted, as  much  as  if  a  good  legacy  had  been 
left  me. 

And  Sir  Roderick  Murchison,  "  as  a  geologist, 
congratulated  him  on  having  obtained  a  good  sub- 
stantial residence  and  garden  on  the  healthiest  hill 
in  London."  But  perhaps  the  less  said  about  the 
garden  the  better.  The  Deanery  was,  in  fact,  a 
roomy,  comfortable  house,  standing  well  back  in 
a  quiet  court  behind  heavy  portes-cocheres,  and 
approached  from  the  churchyard  through  a  narrow 
archway,  which  in  my  father's  time  was  closed  to 
carriage  traffic  by  a  massive  post,  which  was  only 
lowered  into  a  box  prepared  for  it  in  order  to  admit 
carriages  to  the  Deanery.  The  noise  of  the  City 
traffic,  deadened  by  intervening  houses,  was  heard 
only  as  a  continuous  murmur,  making  the  quiet  of 
the  old  house  the  more  impressive.  At  that  time, 
too,  between  the  Deanery  and  river,  the  sleepy 
courts  of  Doctors'  Commons,  so  well  described  in 
"  David  Copperfield,"  but  most  of  which  have  since 
disappeared,  were  still  standing,  and  gave  an  old- 
world  aspect  to  the  surroundings,  which  the  march 
of  modern  improvements  has  since  effaced.  In  his 
"Annals  of  St.  Paul's"  my  father  thus  refers  to  the 
house  : — 

Radulf  de  Diceto  (temp.  Richard  I.)  built  the 
Deanery  of  St.  Paul's,  inhabited  after  him  by  many 
men  of  letters  :  before  the  Reformation  by  the  ad- 
mirable Colet,  who  may  compensate  for  many  names  ; 


172  LEAVES   WESTMINSTER  [CHAP. 

after  the  Reformation  by  Alexander  Nowell,  Donne, 
Bancroft  (who  rebuilt  the  mansion  after  the  fire), 
Stillingfleet,  Tillotson,  W.  Sherlock,  Butler,  Seeker, 
Newton,  Van  Mildert,  Copleston.  As  a  lover  of 
letters,  I  might  perhaps,  without  presumption,  add 
another  name. 

The  removal  to  St.  Paul's  was  completed  in  the 
early  weeks  of  1850,  when  my  father  took  up  his 
residence  in  the  house  which  was  to  be  his  home  for 
the  remaining  years  of  his  life.  Before,  however, 
proceeding  to  a  very  slight  sketch  of  the  incidents 
of  these  years,  it  may  be  convenient  at  this  point  to 
give  a  few  more  examples  of  his  correspondence, 
selecting  such  letters  as  can  be  introduced  without 
comment  or  further  explanation. 


viii.]  CORRESPONDENCE  173 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Letters  to  Mr.  George  Ticknor  and  Mr.  Prescott — Death  of  Mr. 
Prescott — Further  Correspondence  with  Mrs.  Austin — Letters 
to  Archbishop  Sumner  on  Froude's  Candidature  for  Chicheley 
Professorship  of  Modern  History — Lord  Derby's  Homer — The 
Keble  Memorial — Letter  to  Archbishop  Longley. 

To  GEORGE  TICKNOR,  ESQ. 

CLOISTERS,  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY, 
January  29^,  1842. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — 

I  have  to  thank  you  for  a  very  agreeable 
letter,  and  for  the  valuable  present  of  Professor 
Norton's  book.  I  was  not  altogether  unacquainted 
with  the  merits  of  Mr.  Norton's  work,*  as,  since  the 
publication  of  my  own  book,  a  gentleman  of  this 
country,  thinking  that  it  would  interest  me,  had  sent 
it  to  me  to  read.  My  perusal  of  it  would  lead  me 
to  value  the  possession  of  it  very  highly.  It  is,  I 
do  not  hesitate  to  give  my  opinion,  the  most  com- 
plete and  conscientious  investigation  of  that  most 
important  subject  in  our  language.  I  wish  it  were 
possible  to  make  it  better  known  in  this  country  ; 
but  in  the  present  state  of  darkening  prejudice  here, 
and  the  total  absorption  of  the  religious  mind  in 
all  quarters  with  other  controversies,  these  most 
important  and  primary  questions  of  our  common 
Christianity  excite  no  interest. 

While  on  this  subject,  I  must  express  my  satis- 
faction at  the  favourable  opinion  entertained  of  my 
late  work  by  the  distinguished  writers  whom  you 

*  "The  Evidences  of  the  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels,"  3  vols., 
8vo,  London,  1837. 


174  MR.    AND   MRS.    LYELL  [CHAP. 

name,  especially  by  Dr.  Channing.  The  praise  of 
such  men  is  a  high  reward  for  literary  labour,  if 
indeed  any  reward  were  wanting  for  that  which 
is  its  own,  to  any  one  who  feels  the  interest  which 
I  do  in  the  work  itself.  I  am  glad  to  find  any 
quarter  so  undisturbed  by  polemic  passion  as  to 
be  pleased  with  a  book  of  which  it  is  the  chief 
study  to  be  dispassionate.  Here  I  am  content  to 
wait  my  time  till  the  hurricane  which  now  blows 
so  wildly  is  lulled  to  sleep. 

From  all  these  questions  I  turn  with  pleasure  to 
our  friends  the  Lyells.  If  America  likes  them,  I 
will  only  say  that  the  attachment  is  reciprocal. 
They  express  themselves  in  the  highest  terms  as 
to  their  reception — Mr.  Lyell  in  public,  and  both 
in  private  ;  and  among  their  enjoyments  not  the 
least  has  been  your  kind  hospitality.  They  are 
both  as  amiable  and  estimable  as  they  are  intelligent 
and  cultivated.  Lyell  himself  is  surprised  and 
delighted  with  the  numbers  and  demeanour  of  his 
audience.  Your  account  of  the  state  of  education 
in  Boston  fully  accounts  for  his  success.  I  acknow- 
ledge that  it  surprised  me.  I  did  not  suppose  that 
the  means  of  good  education  were  provided  in  so 
large  a  proportion  to  the  population  in  any  country 
in  the  world — certainly  this  is  not  the  case  in  Europe, 
with  all  the  efforts  made  by  governments  and  by 
individual  exertion.  I  presume  that  Boston  in  this 
respect  is  superior  not  merely  to  the  average  but  to 
any  other  city  in  the  United  States. 

To  W.  H.  PRESCOTT,  ESQ.* 

CLOISTERS,  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY, 

April  \ith,  1844. 
MY  DEAR  SIR, — 

I  reproach  myself  for  having  delayed  so  long 
to  acknowledge  the  note  in  which  you  expressed 

*  This  letter  has  been  already  printed  in  Ticknor's   "Life  of 
Prescott." 


viii.]      PRESCOTT'S   "CONQUEST   OF   MEXICO"      175 

your  gratification  at  the  notice  of  your  Mexican 
work  in  the  Quarterly  Review.  I  assure  you  that 
nothing  could  give  me  greater  pleasure  than 
finding  an  opportunity  of  thus  publicly,  though 
anonymously,  declaring  my  high  opinion  of  your 
writings.  Our  many  common  friends  have  taught 
me  to  feel  as  much  respect  for  your  private 
character  as  your  writings  have  commanded  as 
an  author.  I  was  much  amused,  after  I  had  com- 
menced the  article,  with  a  letter  from  our  friend 
Lord  Morpeth,  expressing  an  anxious  hope  that 
justice  would  be  done  to  the  work  in  the  Quarterly 
Review.  Without  betraying  my  secret,  I  was  able 
to  set  his  mind  at  rest. 

Can  we  not  persuade  you  to  extend  your  personal 
acquaintance  with  our  men  of  letters  and  others 
whose  society  you  would  appreciate  by  a  visit  to 
England  ?  Perhaps  you  might  not  find  much  to 
assist  you  in  your  researches  (if  report  speaks 
true  that  you  are  engaged  on  the  "  Conquest  of 
of  Peru")  which  you  cannot  command  in  America, 
yet  even  in  that  respect  our  libraries  might  be  of 
service.  But  of  this  I  am  sure,  that  no  one  would 
be  received  with  greater  cordiality  or  more  universal 
esteem. 

If  this  be  impossible  or  impracticable,  allow  me 
to  assure  you  that  I  shall  be  delighted  if  this 
opening  of  our  correspondence  should  lead  to  further 
acquaintance  even  by  letter.  I  shall  always  feel  the 
greatest  interest  in  the  labours  of  one  who  does  so 
much  honour  to  our  common  literature.  In  letters 
we  must  be  brethren,  and  God  grant  that  we  may 
be  in  political  relations  and  in  reciprocal  feelings  of 
respect  and  regard. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  sir, 
Ever  faithfully  yours, 

H.    H.    MlLMAN. 


i;6  LETTER   TO   PRESCOTT  [CHAP, 

To  W.  H.  PRESCOTT,  ESQ. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

November  itfk,  1850. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — 

Your  welcome  letter  did  not  bring  the  first 
tidings  of  your  safe  arrival  in  your  native  land.     A 
dispatch  of  Dr.    Holland's    which   I    saw    in    Kent 
boasted  of  the  pleasant  dinner  which  you  had  given 
him  at  Boston.     It  gave  us  unmingled  pleasure,  as 
adding,    I   trust,   further  encouragement  to  another 
visit  to  England.     Then  we  should,  I  hope,  be  in 
a  better  condition  to  fulfil  all  the  duties  of  hospitality. 
1    often   think   that   if  I  were  some  twenty  years 
younger  I  should  work  up  my  courage  to  cross  the 
Atlantic.     The  only  regret  I  feel  at  having  formed 
such  delightful  friendships  as  I  have  among  your 
countrymen,  and  most  especially   with  yourself,  is 
that  the  wide  Atlantic  is  rolling  and  will  still  roll 
between  us.     Regret  is  the  wrong  word,  for  friend- 
ship which  grows  weak  and  languishes  for  want  of 
renewed  opportunities  of  intercourse  is  hardly  worthy 
of  the  name ;    and  if  Mahomet  cannot  go  to   the 
mountain,  he  has  still  hopes  that  the  mountain  is  not 
as  immovable  as  himself.    At  all  events,  the  recollec- 
tion of  your  visit  to  London  will  be  to  us  among 
those  cherished  remembrances  on  which   we   shall 
dwell  while  memory  holds  her  seat.     I  am  very  glad 
that   you   had   an   opportunity   of  seeing    English 
country  life,  and  to  such  advantage.     It  is  one  of  the 
great  characteristics  of  our  land,  and  I  think  especially 
favourable  to  the  revelation  of  what  our  aristocracy, 
of  which  so  much  is  said  in  disparagement  and  even 
scorn,  really  is  in  that  most  important  and  English 
sphere,  the  home.     You  probably  saw  it  not  only 
in  its  high-dress  reception  state,  but  in  its  familiar 
every-day  life.     In  the  country  we  see  what  men 
are.     To  secure  this  in   London  peculiar  intimacy 
is  required,  such  as  can  hardly  fall  to  the  lot  of  a 


viii.]  A   SUMMER   HOLIDAY  177 

stranger.  There  they  are  as  they  would  appear  to 
be.  Your  inability  to  visit  Bowood  was  a  source 
of  great  regret  there  and  to  us.  We  are  just  come 
from  that  house,  which  in  some  respects,  by  its 
inmates  as  well  as  by  its  unrivalled  social  ease,  by 
the  beauty  of  the  works  of  art,  the  elegance  and 
grace  of  the  whole,  with  the  perfect  liveability 
(there  is  a  new  word  in  return  for  some  of  yours), 
is  a  model  of  country  residences. 

Our  tour  turned  out  charmingly.  We  went  down 
the  Rhone,  saw  the  noble  Roman  antiquities  in  the 
South  of  France,  and  crossed  Provence.  From  the 
Cornice  road  we  looked  down  on  the  deep-blue 
Mediterranean,  along  a  succession  of  Stanfield 
pictures  of  the  most  exquisite  beauty  at  every  rise 
and  fall  of  the  coast ;  so  on  to  palatial  Genoa  and 
Milan.  Then  we  whiled  away  a  delicious  month 
among  the  Italian  lakes,  crossed  the  Spliigen,  and 
returned  by  Strasbourg  and  Paris  home.  There 
was  nothing,  except  a  few  days  of  excessive  heat, 
but  pure  enjoyment — nothing  on  our  return  to  break 
our  dream  of  delight.  Alas !  how  different  with 
our  excellent,  our  dearest  friend  Hallam  !  A  second 
time  he  sets  out  for  a  tour  of  pleasure  with  a  son, 
his  last  son — if  not  of  the  brilliant  and  peculiar 
promise  of  the  elder,  yet  the  best,  gentlest,  kindest, 
most  considerate  of  youths,  with  very  remarkable 
yet  more  quiet  talents,  and  with  acquirements  such 
as  a  son  of  Hallam's  ought  to  possess.  At  Siena 
he  is  suddenly  seized,  in  a  few  days  all  is  over,  and 
the  father  is  returning  with  the  Remains  to  rest  with 
his  wife  and,  I  believe,  six  other  children.  We 
have  felt  this,  as  you  may  suppose,  more  deeply  than 
we  could  feel  anything,  excepting  where  the  blow 
has  been,  as  it  has  been,  on  ourselves.  One  daughter 
alone  remains.  I  tremble  for  my  friend  ;  but  his  is 
a  mind  of  which  few  know  the  strength  and  depth. 

But  I   must  turn  to  other  subjects,  as  you  will 

12 


178  "NO   POPERY"  [CHAP. 

expect  to  hear  something  of  the  topic  which  is  now 
"  raging  among  us."  You  would  almost  suppose  that 
Lord  George  Gordon  was  alive  again.  Our  walls 
are  rubric  with  "  No  Popery,"  as  in  days  of  old.  As 
I  went  out  this  morning,  I  found  a  label  on  my  own 
door,  illustrated  by  a  school  scrawl  of  the  Cardinal. 
It  is  a  grievous  thing  that  the  long  years  during 
which  so  many  wise  and  good  persons  have  been 
endeavouring  to  allay  religious  animosities,  to 
soften  religious  asperities,  and  to  enable  us  to  live, 
if  not  in  mutual  respect,  yet  without  violent  collision, 
should  be  blown  into  the  air  by  the  insatiable 
vanity  and  ambition  of  one  man,  Wiseman,  to 
whom  I  ascribe  much,  if  he  is  not  led  and  inspirited 
by  Newman  and  the  folly  of  the  old  Pope.  All 
sensible  English  Roman  Catholics  strongly  deplore 
the  measure,  and  even  I  find  myself  suddenly  com- 
pelled to  protest  against  a  wanton  and  silly  insult. 
The  stir  in  the  City  is  almost  amusing.  Lord  John 
is  nearly  as  much  an  idol  as  Lord  George  of  old. 
They  talked  of  taking  the  horses  off  his  carriage, 
and  drawing  him  to  the  dinner  at  Guildhall. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

January  loth,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  AUSTIN, — 

Dare  I  begin  with  wishing  you  many  happy 
returns  of  the  season  ?  If  I  dare,  I  do  so  from  my 
heart  both  to  you  and  your  husband.  Among  the 
impulses  which  induce  me  now  to  write  to  you  (I 
say  nothing,  or  rather  would  say  much,  on  the  cause 
of  my  long  silence)  is  my  earnest  desire  to  hear 
something  of  you  on  the  only  unerring  authority — 
yourself.  I  catch  dim  and  uncertain  and  variable 
accounts  of  you  occasionally  from  Gordon  and 
Reeve,  but  long  for  something  more  satisfactory,  I 
earnestly  hope  more  cheering.  On  our  return  from 
Scotland,  our  summer  tour,  I  had  hoped  immediately 
to  retrieve  my  remissness  in  the  spring.  I  found 


VIIL]  DEATH   OF   MISS   BERRY  179 

that  you  were  setting  off  for  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
Since  that  time  came  on  me  all  the  affairs  of  the 
Funeral  [of  the  Duke  of  Wellington],  and  very 
weighty,  distracting,  absorbing  cares  they  were. 
I  told  Lord  Clarendon  that  I  would  back  my 
last  three  days  against  any  three  of  the  busiest 
and  most  perplexing  of  his  Irish  Lord  Lieutenancy. 
The  difficulty  was  enormous — responsibility  without 
despotic  power.  I  had  to  settle  and  balance  affairs 
with  the  Woods  and  Forests,  the  Lord  Chamberlain, 
Garter  King-at-Arms,  the  Lord  Mayor,  and  City 
Police.  However,  finis  coronal  opus — the  success 
more  than  repaid  me.  Even  I  had  no  notion 
that  our  Church  Service  could  be  made  so  solemn, 
so  imposing,  so  surpassing  (Bunsen  declares)  all 
ceremonials  he  ever  beheld.  Since  that  time  I 
have  been  endeavouring  to  make  up  my  leeway 
after  near  four  months'  holiday  out  of  London  and 
this  month  and  a  half  of  busy  work. 

And  now,  having  pleaded  my  cause,  and  I  hope 
made  out  a  good  case  for  mercy,  let  me  beg  to  hear 
from  you  on  any  or  all  subjects  (a  modest  request) 
which  may  at  present  occupy  and  interest  you.  What 
is  the  state  of  the  Sydney  Papers  ?  Have  you  still 
strength  and  determination  to  go  on  ?  Or  has  the 
loss  of  our  dear  friend  the  widow  made  any 
difference  ?  This  is  not  the  only  common  loss  we 
have  sustained.  In  the  midst  of  my  turmoils,  or 
rather  before  the  turmoil  was  closed,  I  had  the 
melancholy  duty  (as  I  had  done  for  poor  Agnes) 
of  officiating  at  the  last  rites  of  our  dear  Miss  Berry. 
I  did  not,  I  grieve  to  say,  see  her.  I  made  frequent 
efforts,  but  failed  from  various  causes.  I  only  heard, 
just  at  the  close,  that  it  was  approaching,  and  hurried 
to  the  house,  but  she  had  sunk  into  that  quiet, 
almost  unconscious  repose  in  which  her  peaceful 
spirit  glided  away  almost  imperceptibly.  It  was 
striking  to  see  so  many  of  her  friends  gathered 


l8o  SIR   WILLIAM   MOLESWORTH  [CHAP. 

round  her  grave.  Her  loss  socially  is  so  irreparable 
that  I  am  constantly  accusing  myself  of  selfishness 
in  my  sorrow  for  her  departure,  but  I  really  feel 
that  (somewhat  more  removed  as  we  are  from  the 
central  life,  the  social  life  of  London)  the  blank  left 
by  her  house  cuts  me  off  from  many  other  valued 
friends  whom  I  was  sure  to  encounter  there.  How- 
ever, we  must  not  mourn  at  the  singularly  painless 
close  of  a  life  so  blameless,  and  at  the  same  time, 
if  we  may  judge,  so  happy. 

I  ought  to  give  you  some  intelligence  of  living 
friends.  I  cannot  but  rejoice  at  Lord  Lansdowne's 
determination  to  give  his  support  without  office 
to  the  Government.  Nothing  but  his  influence, 
the  confidence  in  his  known  judgment,  sagacity, 
and  perfect  amenity  of  manner,  could  have  brought 
together  and  harmonized  the  conflicting  elements. 
I  have  good  hopes  that,  if  some  apple  of  discord 
be  not  unexpectedly  hurled  among  them,  he  may 
still  hold  them  together.  What  think  you  of  our 
friend  William  *  in  the  Cabinet  ?  I  have  been 
vainly  endeavouring  to  beguile  a  worthy  arch- 
deacon to  vote,  as  of  old,  for  Gladstone  at  Oxford. 
"What!  he  who  sits  in  the  same  Cabinet  with 
the  editor  of  Hobbes?"  I  did  not  proceed  to 
cross-examine  the  worthy  divine  as  to  the  opinions 
of  the  same  wicked  Hobbes.  In  South wark  I 
understand  there  is  some  doubt  whether  the  said 
Hobbes  is  a  Popish  bishop  or  a  friend  and  con- 
temporary of  Tom  Paine.  We  were  in  October  at 
Bowood.  It  is  really  charming  and  in  some  degree 
consoling  to  see  how  that  young  and  beautiful  Lady 
Shelburne  endeavours  to  fill  the  place,  which  no 
one  can  quite  fill,  of  her  whom  we  have  lost.  She 
seems  to  think,  and  she  must  be  self-inspired  with 
the  thought,  that  she  has  inherited  the  duties  and 
friends  of  the  departed. 

*  Sir  William  Molesworth. 


VIIL]  AT   WORK   AGAIN  181 

I  think  you  will  expect  me  to  say  something 
of  ourselves.  I  am,  thank  God,  remarkably  well : 
the  highlands  of  St.  Paul's  seem  to  agree  with 
me  extremely  well.  .  .  .  We  enjoyed  our  High- 
land excursion  very  much.  We  took  a  wider  circle 
than  I  have  ever  taken  before  in  Scotland — Arran, 
Skye  (our  friends  the  Fergusons  had  a  house  on 
a  sea  loch,  whence  we  made  the  latter  island), 
Deeside,  the  Sterlings'  at  Keir,  Edinburgh,  the 
Richardsons'  on  the  Border.  I  am  now  subsid- 
ing into  my  usual  quiet  work,  which  I  am  sorry 
to  say  seems  endless.  I  have  attempted  far  too 
wide  a  range,  and  no  sooner  have  I  made  up  my 
mind  on  one  point  than  another  crosses  me  and 
leads  me  on  a  wild  chase, — not  through  bush  and 
brier,  but  through  folio  and  quarto;  not  through 
flood  and  mire,  but  through  Greek  and  German. 
However,  the  work  itself,  if  it  never  comes  to  any- 
thing, is  full  of  unfailing  interest.  If  no  one  else  is 
wiser  or  better  for  it,  I  hope  that  I  shall  be  ;  at  least 
it  keeps  me  occupied — I  will  not  say  out  of  mischief, 
though  in  these  days  of  polemic  mischief,  who  might 
not  find  himself  in  some  unprofitable  fray  ? 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin,  I  must  beg  you  to  express  to 
your  husband  how  much  I  regret  that  I  have  latterly 
had  so  few,  and  fear  that  I  can  hardly  reckon  for  the 
future  on  many,  opportunities  of  enjoying  his  friendly 
and  enlightening  conversation.  From  Mrs.  Milman, 
as  well  as  from  me,  let  me  beg  you  to  accept  our 
most  earnest  good  wishes  for  better  health — if  not 
better  health,  Christian  patience  to  endure  and 
Christian  hope  to  comfort. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

VENTNOR,  January  \2th,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  DEAN, — 

First  let  me  say  that,  in  whatsoever  condition 
of  body  or  mind  I  may  be,  such  a  letter  from  you 


1 82  HIGH   AND   LOW   CHURCH  [CHAP. 

as  that  I  received  yesterday  must  always  be  most 
precious, — if  well,  a  great  pleasure  ;  if  sick,  a  great 
consolation.  And  I  don't  know  whether  first  to 
thank  the  good  Christian  or  the  ever-agreeable 
companion  to  whom  I  owe  it.  Since  you  begin 
by  asking  me  to  tell  you  how  I  am,  I  will  dispose 
of  that  subject  at  once.  .  .  . 

You  may  suppose  that  this  daily  and  hourly 
familiarity  with  death  keeps  ever  before  me  the 
great  subject — the  Hereafter  to  which  it  is  the 
gate.  It  would  be  an  infinite  comfort  to  me  to 
talk  with  you  on  this  matter ;  for  though  I  feel  an 
indescribable  serenity  and  cheerfulness  about  it,  I 
can  give  no  satisfactory  reason  for  my  state  of  mind. 
The  sort  of  distinct  view  and  full  confidence  which 
I  have  perceived  in  others  is  not  granted  to  me. 
I  can  form  no  coherent  notion  of  the  re-existence 
or  the  continued  existence  which  we  are  promised  ; 
and  when  I  examine  myself,  I  find  all  vague  and 
uncertain.  What  can  I  do  ?  I  bring  my  doubts 
and  lay  them  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  and,  where 
I  cannot  see,  I  trust.  The  most  absolute  resignation 
and  surrender  of  will,  hope,  and  desire  are  not 
difficult  to  me.  But  is  this  enough  ?  I  know  not, 
and  sometimes  I  think  I  have  no  right  to  feel  the 
repose  I  do.  But,  to  say  truth,  my  conception  of 
God's  mercy,  and  my  view  of  the  character,  teaching, 
and  example  of  Christ,  are  stronger  than  the  terrors 
which  may  certainly  be  extracted  from  Scripture. 
Still,  I  wish  my  faith  had  a  more  definite  form. 
So  few  of  your  brethren,  best  of  Deans,  can  help 
a  poor  aspirant  on  this  road.  It  is  not  my  fault 
if,  after  listening  to  reason  all  my  life,  I  can  get 
no  good  of  unreason.  And  what  nonsense  they 
talk !  Forgive  me.  We  are  here  in  a  true  battle- 
field of  High  and  Low  Church,  and  they  shout 
damnation  into  either  ear  of  the  dying.  Remember 
to  ask  me  for  a  scene — it  is  too  long  to  write. 


VIIL]  THE   DUCHESS   OF   ORLEANS  183 

The  Low  gentleman  called  to  offer  to  read  and 
pray  with  me.  He  had  just  been  denouncing  my 
hospitable,  charitable,  worthy  friend  James  White, 
a  brother  clergyman,  from  the  pulpit  as  an  Atheist, 
warning  the  people  not  to  send  their  children  to 
his  school,  etc.  This  is  the  mad  string  of  England. 
Every  nation  has  one.  The  Oxford  exhibition  is 
much  to  be  deplored.  The  Universities  have  no 
public  respect  to  throw  away  ;  and  the  manner  of 
Lord  Derby's  election,  and  now  this  affair,  are  calcu- 
lated to  damage  Oxford  seriously.  I  have  not  yet 
heard  whether  our  excellent  Hawtrey  is,  or  is  to 
be,  Provost.  How  I  wish  it,  you  know. 

January  list. 

The  above  was  written  immediately  after  the 
receipt  of  your  letter.  You  know  how  long  ago. 
Since  then  my  heart  and  mind  and  time  have  been 
so  completely  preoccupied,  that  day  after  day  found 
me  either  too  busy,  too  tired,  too  anxious,  or  too 
depressed  to  venture  on  a  conversation  with  you. 
As  to  the  business,  it  was  chiefly  for  the  poor, 
dear  Duchess  of  Orleans,  whose  friends  wrote  to 
me  to  try  to  move  the  English  press  to  notice 
the  sale  of  her  pictures.  I  suppose  the  affairs  of 
princes  are  always  worse  managed  than  anybody's, 
so  that  I  had  endless  trouble — needlessly,  as  far  as 
money  goes,  for,  as  you  see,  the  prices  given  in 
France  were  enormous,  "  such  as  to  make  me 
shiver,"  writes  Lord  Ellesmere.  But,  poor  thing  ! 
she  is  pleased  and  touched  at  some  expressions  of 
respectful  interest  in  her,  and  that  is  enough  for 
me.  English  people  in  general  know  little  and  care 
less  about  her,  and  are  inclined  to  believe  all  the 
misrepresentations  they  read  or  hear,  which  is  not 
to  their  credit.  But  as  one  who  knows  her  well 
said  to  me,  "  La  grandeur  d'ame  est  la  qualite" 
dont  on  se  soucie  le  moins."  Nothing  was  ever 


1 84  LIFE   OF   T.    MOORE  [CHAP. 

more  true  ;  and,  indeed,  how  should  it  be  otherwise  ? 
How  few  have,  within,  the  standard  by  which  to 
measure  it !  ... 

Think  of  that  incomparable  Lord  Lansdowne 
finding  time  and  recollection  to  send  me  one  of  the 
first  published  copies  of  Moore  the  very  day  of 
Lord  Derby's  resignation !  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
I  felt  and  feel  such  an  attention.  It  is  a  very 
interesting  book  on  the  whole.  The  introduction 
is  very  prettily  done.  But  what  does  Lady  John 
say  to  the  apology  for  Mr.  Little  ?  Well,  since 
Mr.  Ingersoll  tells  us  that  Washington  enjoyed 
questionable  songs  after  dinner,  and  Lord  John 
excuses  the  youthful  muse  of  Moore,  where  are 
we,  excellent  Dean,  to  look  for  a  clean  corner  in 
the  world  ?  I  think  the  book  would  have  gained 
much  by  omissions  ;  and  indeed  that  is  still  more 
true  of  Lord  Jeffrey's  Life,  and  of  every  one  that 
the  zeal  of  friends  and  publishers  puts  forth.  To 
me,  if  I  could  hope  ever  to  have  strength,  spirits, 
and  capacity  to  finish  what  I  suffered  myself  to 
be  persuaded  to  undertake,  these  lives  would  be 
a  warning  rather  than  a  model  in  this  respect. 
Yet,  if  any  man  could  bear  being  viewed  micro- 
scopically, it  is  surely  Moore — so  good,  so  true, 
so  tender,  so  high-spirited,  so  honest.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  engaging  characters  ever  portrayed, 
and  profoundly  respectable  withal. 

A  third  sheet !  But  six  would  not  exhaust  or 
contain  the  accumulated  gossip  of  months  and 
years.  Yes,  I  understand  your  loss  in  Miss  Berry, 
and  I  do  not  suppose  you  are  likely  to  find  any 
woman  capable  of  taking  her  place.  "Si  je 
voulais  la  caract^riser  dans  un  mot,"  said  Comte 
de  Circourt  to  me  of  another  lady,  "  ce  mot 
serait  centre."  It  has  been  my  fate  to  know 
intimately  one  such  in  each  nation, — Madame 
R^camier ;  Miss  Berry ;  and  the  third  (unknown 


viii.]  SOCIAL   CENTRES  185 

to  you  and  fame),  Madame  de  Bardeleben,  of 
Dresden,  the  most  admirable  of  the  three,  as  having 
none  of  the  extrinsic  advantages  the  other  two 
possessed.  "  Yes,"  says  her  and  my  distinguished 
friend  Madame  de  Liittichau,  "  it  appears  to  me  as 
if  a  whole  circle  of  friends  had  died  with  her." 
How  true !  The  circle  seems  to  resolve  itself  into 
its  elements  and  disappear  when  its  centre  is  gone, 
and  something  of  this  you  must  find.  I  should  like 
to  write  a  comparative  view  of  these  three  centres. 
In  France  the  qualities  that  fit  a  woman  for  this 
office  are  not  rare.  In  Germany  and  England  they 
seem  to  me  equally  rare.  I  have  a  long  and  in- 
comparable letter  from  M.  Guizot.*  He  lives 
with  the  grande  et  forte  compagnie  of  our  great 
Rebellion.  I  resist  having  it  called  a  Revolution, 
which  it  was  not — thank  God  devoutly  for  the  same ! 
The  old  name,  "  The  Great  Rebellion,"  is  the  word. 
I  hear  as  often  and  as  much  from  Paris  as  the  police 
will  allow,  and  expect  MM.  de  Circourt  and  St. 
Hilaire  here.  The  Court  news  is  not  always  very 
fit  to  be  told,  still  less  written,  as  you  may  infer 
from  the  expression  of  a  learned  friend,  who  calls 
it  un  L^lpanar  armd,  which  you  may  quote,  but 
not  from  me. 

V.  Cousin  has  just  sent  me  over  his  Madame  de 

*  Some  years  later,  1859,  in  the  course  of  an  autumn  tour,  my 
father  paid  a  visit  to  M.  Guizot  at  Val  Richer.  Writing  me  an 
account  of  this  visit,  he  says  :  "  Nothing  can  have  answered  better 
than  our  tour  up  to  this  time.  Guizot  was  most  kind  and  hospitable, 
the  house  and  place  charming.  We  had  much  conversation  on  all 
sorts  of  subjects — much  that  I  ought  to  recollect,  and  that  I  trust  I 
shall  recollect.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  a  more  happy  family  or 
a  more  dignified  position  for  a  man  who  has  held  such  high  places, 
subsiding  contentedly  and  cheerfully  into  a  diligent  and  ever-occupied 
man  of  letters.  The  son  was  all  that  could  be  desired — courteous, 
obliging,  full  of  his  own  literary  plans :  one  of  the  sons-in-law 
(M.  de  Witt)  a  very  superior  person,  who  has  written,  and  written 
extremely  well,  on  the  two  American  Presidents,  Washington  and 
Jefferson. 


1 86  BUNSEN'S   ".HIPPOLYTUS"  [CHAP, 

Longueville — "  one  of  five  copies  printed  on  large 
papier  vdlin."  But  even  this  signal  honour  will 
not  conquer  my  objections  to  Madame  de  L.,  or 
to  my  dear  old  friend's  researches  among  the 
charmantes  pdcheresses  of  that  time.  As  he  is 
going  on  with  Plato,  I  had  rather  he  had  left 
these  fair  penitents  alone.  The  account  of  the 
Carmelites  is,  however,  extremely  interesting. 
Husband  is  reading  Hippolytus,  and  is  good 
enough  to  read  to  me  what  he  thinks  most  in- 
teresting. I  revere  Bunsen's  courage  on  some 
points,  but  there  are  passages  marked  with  truly 
German  bad  taste  and  confusion.  Who  reviews 
it  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  ?  Is  it  our  best  of 
Deans  ?  My  husband,  sitting  still  as  a  mouse, 

now  ejaculates  to  himself,  "  D d  stuff!  "  which 

comes  in  rather  abruptly  as  a  commentary.  It 
is,  I  fear,  rather  too  strong  and  too  laconic  for 
you.  We  are  quite  alone  here,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  my  dear  old  friend  Mrs.  Bellenden 
Kerr,  who  is  come  to  be  near  me,  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  White,  who  received  me  with  the  greatest 
hospitality.  Perhaps  you  know  him,  at  least  by 
fame,  as  a  clergyman  convicted  of  writing  a  play 
or  plays.  They  are  well  off,  and  he  does  not 
officiate — lectures  instead  to  the  mechanics.  He 
is  anathematized  from  the  pulpit  by  a  furious  bigot 
here,  but  is,  I  assure  you,  an  excellent  man. 
Tennyson,  Thackeray,  and  others  whom  you  know 
are  his  friends. 

Now,  dear  Dean,  I  must  go  out,  for  the  only 
part  of  the  day  during  which  I  live  is  spent  in 
my  pony-chaise.  You  may  rejoice  in  this  necessity 
which  puts  an  end  to  my  interminable  bavardage. 
Remember  me  most  affectionately  to  my  dear 
Mrs.  Milman,  whose  sweet  face  I  would  fain 
see  once  more.  All  good  wishes  attend  her  and 
your  sons.  When  you  write  again,  tell  me  a  little 


viii.]  "PHILIP   THE   SECOND"  187 

more  about  them.  What  are  they  all  doing  ?  Your 
sons  are  objects  of  public  interest,  or  rather  interest 
to  the  public.  Believe  me  always,  dear  Dean,  with 
the  sincerest  respect  and  affection, 

Yours, 

SARAH  AUSTIN. 

My  husband  begs  me  to  say  how  much  he  feels 
your  kind  regrets,  and  how  warmly  he  reciprocates 
them.  Alas  !  this  is  one  of  my  greatest  sorrows. 
I  who  used  to  fight  against  his  tendency  to  seclude 
himself  am  now  an  additional  bar  between  him  and 
society. 

To  W.  H.  PRESCOTT,  ESQ. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

December  292^,  1855. 

MY    DEAR   AND    EXCELLENT    FRIEND, 

How  can  I  wind  up  the  year  better  than 
by  paying  my  debts  of  gratitude  and  friendship  ? 
"  Philip  the  Second  "  has  duly  arrived  ;  but  you  have 
rather  embarrassed  me  by  a  most  kind  and  unex- 
pected note  towards  the  end,  which  may  make  any 
admiration  I  express  a  little  like  grateful  barter  of 
praise  for  praise.  What  you  have  said  of  me  and 
my  work  is  exactly  what  I  should  wish  enlightened 
and  good  men  like  you  to  say  and  think  of  me. 
For  Philip  himself  I  must,  however,  in  spite  of  all 
such  suspicions,  speak  as  I  should  have  spoken  under 
any  circumstances.  Your  narrative  is,  as  ever, 
lucid,  flowing,  picturesque  ;  your  judgment  upright, 
fine,  and  charitable — I  almost  doubt  whether,  even 
for  me,  not  too  charitable  for  that  darkest  of  human 
beings.  Perhaps,  however,  you  will  be  better 
pleased  and  satisfied  if  I  repeat  the  general  opinion 
in  England  among  men  whose  opinion  I  know  you 
especially  value,  and  that  is  highly  favourable.  You 
are  generally  read,  and  by  all,  I  think,  with  the  same 


1 88  COMPLETION  OF  "LATIN  CHRISTIANITY"  [CHAP. 

earnest  desire  that  you  may  finish  the  whole  as  well 
as  you  have  begun.  Can  we  say  more  ?  You  were 
fortunately  well  launched  before  the  full  and  over- 
whelming tide  of  Macaulay  set  in.  No  one  reads, 
no  one  can  read,  anything  else ;  and  indeed,  in  my 
judgment,  he  has  surpassed  himself  He  makes  one 
believe  in  the  Pythagorean  transmission  of  souls. 
He  must  have  been  somebody  in  the  days  of 
William  III.,  as  well  as  the  Macaulay  of  his  own 
time.  And  then  his  affluence,  his  exuberance,  of 
language  and  illustration !  In  the  meantime  my 
three  last  volumes,  the  close  of  my  labours,  have 
stolen  into  the  world ;  they  will,  I  hope,  soon  reach 
you.  At  present  my  only  reader,  the  only  one  who 
commands  leisure,  is  Macaulay  ;  and  I  hear  that  his 
verdict  is  all  that  I  could  desire.  For  others  I  am 
perfectly  content  to  wait  my  time.  I  can  only  feel 
confident  that  the  three  last  volumes  will  not  have 
intentionally  departed  from  the  spirit  which  you 
have  been  so  good  as  to  express  your  sympathy 
with  in  the  three  first.  In  one  respect  they  must  be 
of  more  general  interest,  as  embracing  a  long  period 
of  which  we  have  no  continuous  history. 

I  am  happy  to  say  that  my  hopes  of  seeing  you  again 
among  us  refuse  to  be  dissipated  by  all  the  objections 
you  raise.  I  cannot  but  think  that  you  will  break 
even  the  tender  bonds  which  hold  you  to  your  home. 
If  so,  let  it  be  boldly  and  speedily  done.  If  not,  I 
beseech  you  to  interfere  with  some  power  that  may 
take  twenty  years  off  my  life,  and  then  I  will  cross 
the  Atlantic  to  you.  But  this  is  wild  talking. 
But,  for  you,  remember  that  the  sooner  you  come 
the  more  of  your  old  friends  you  will  find  to  greet 
you,  and  those  perhaps  in  better  health  and  spirits. 
We  passed  a  very  agreeable  summer  among  the 
chateaux  about  the  Loire,  in  the  Pyrenees,  and 
in  Paris.  Excepting  some  days  of  indisposition, 
the  whole  was  most  enjoyable.  We  are  now  again 


VIIL]        CHARACTERIZED   BY   MR.   PRESCOTT        189 

in  our  quiet  home — quiet,  though  in  the  midst  of  the 
whirling  city.  Except  an  excursion  to  Bo  wood  next 
week,  I  hope  that  we  shall  rest  during  the  winter. 
I  intend,  having  now  achieved  my  labours,  to 
indulge  and  luxuriate  in  reading  the  labours  of 
others.  I  have  begun  to  enjoy  (having  so  long  read 
so  much  bad  Latin  and  Greek)  my  old  friends  the 
great  classical  writers.  In  the  enjoyment  of  them  I 
seem  to  grow  young  again.  Mrs.  Milman  desires 
me  to  give  her  kindest  love  to  you,  and  to  assure 
you  that  there  are  none  who  would  more  cordially 
welcome  your  return  among  us  than  I  and  herself. 
I  cannot  help  saying  that  you  have  sent  us  a  very 
charming  reminiscence  of  your  kindred  in  Mrs. 
Twisleton.  She  is  herself  a  very  pleasing  person, 
besides  having  the  merit  of  being  connected  with 
you  and  talking  of  you. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  friend, 

Ever  most  sincerely  yours, 

H.   H.  MILMAN. 


In  the  note  to  which  allusion  is  made  in  the 
foregoing  letter,  Mr.  Prescott  refers  to  the  "  History 
of  Latin  Christianity  " — 

1 '  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  works  of  the 
present  age,  in  which  the  author  reviews  with 
curious  erudition  and  in  a  profoundly  philosophical 
spirit  the  various  changes  that  have  taken  place  in 
the  Roman  hierarchy  ;  and  while  he  fully  exposes 
the  manifold  errors  and  corruptions  of  the  system, 
he  shows  throughout  that  enlightened  charity  which 
is  the  most  precious  of  Christian  graces,  as  un- 
happily it  is  the  rarest.* 

*  "  History  of  the  Reign  of  Philip  II.,"  ii.  525. 


190  TOUR  IN   GERMANY  [CHAP. 

To  W.  H.  PRESCOTT,  ESQ. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

December  ist,  1856. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — 

The  date  of  your  last  letter  looks  reproach- 
fully at  me,  but  I  am  sure  that  you  will  ascribe  my 
long  silence  to  anything  rather  than  want  of  the 
most  sincere  and  cordial  friendship.  I  received  it 
during  our  summer  wanderings  in  Germany,  where 
we  passed  many  weeks  in  great  enjoyment,  and  I 
rejoice  and  am  thankful  to 'be  able  to  say  in  un 
interrupted,  perhaps  improved,  health.  We  paid  a 
visit  to  our  friend  Bunsen  at  Heidelberg,  whom  we 
found  (I  know  not  whether  you  made  his  acquaint- 
ance in  England)  in  the  dignity  and  happiness  of 
literary  quiet  and  labour,  after  having  so  honourably 
lost  his  high  diplomatic  position.  He  has  a  beauti- 
fully situated  house,  looking  over  the  bright  Neckar, 
on  the  noble  ruins  of  the  castle.  Thence  we  took 
the  course  of  the  five  Bavarian  cities,  Aschaffen- 
burg,  Wurtzburg,  Bamberg,  Nuremberg,  Ulm.  At 
Donauworth  we  launched  on  the  rapid  Danube, 
and  followed  its  stream  to  Vienna  and  to  Pesth. 
To  us  the  Danube  is  a  noble  stream,  especially  after 
its  junction  with  the  Inn,  amid  the  magnificent 
scenery  about  Passau,  though  I  know  that  you 
Americans  give  yourselves  great  airs,  and  would 
think  but  lightly  of  the  power  and  volume  of  such 
a  river.  From  Vienna  to  Prague  and  Dresden. 
At  Dresden  we  had  the  great  pleasure  of  falling 
in  with  the  Ticknors,  whom  I  had  frequently  seen 
during  their  short  stay  in  London ;  and  also  with  their 
most  charming  relative,  our  friend  Mrs.  Twisleton, 
and  her  lord.  Then  to  Berlin  ;  and  after  a  peep 
into  Holland,  we  found  our  way  home.  We  indeed 
have  been  hardly  settled  at  home  (having  paid  some 
visits  in  the  autumn)  till  within  two  or  three  weeks. 
Among  the  parcels  which  awaited  me  on  my  arrival 


VIIL]  "SOLVE   SENESCENTEM"  191 

was  your  graceful  and  just  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  our  excellent  friend,  poor  Mr.  Lawrence.  I  should 
have  read  it  with  great  interest  for  his  sake,  if  from 
another  hand  ;  with  how  much  more  when  it  came 
from  you,  executed  with  your  accustomed  skill  and 
your  pleasant  style,  heightened  by  your  regret  and 
affection ! 

I  have  not  yet  seen  your  concluding  chapter  (an- 
nounced in  this  week's  Athenczum]  to  the  new  edition 
of  Robertson's  "  Charles  V."  I  doubt  not  that  you 
have  found  much  to  say,  and  much  that  we  shall  be 
glad  to  read,  even  after  Stirling's  agreeable  book. 
It  is  rather  hard  that  the  same  trespasser  on 
your  field  is  busy  with  John  of  Austria.  By  the 
way,  at  the  Goldenes  Kreuz  Hotel  at  Regensburg 
[Ratisbon],  which  was  once  a  fine  palace,  they  show 
the  room  in  which  John  of  Austria  was  born. 
But  his  life  is  comparatively  of  trivial  moment  in 
the  darkening  tragedy  (for  you  must  allow  it  to 
gather  all  its  darkness)  of  Philip  II.'s  later  years. 
Though  I  would  on  no  account  urge  you  to  haste 
incompatible  with  the  full  investigation  of  a.11  the 
accumulating  materials  of  those  fearful  times,  yet 
you  must  not  allow  any  one  else  to  step  in  before 
you,  and  usurp  the  property  which  you  have  so 
good  a  right  to  claim,  in  that  awful  impersonation 
of  all  that  is  anti-Christian — in  him  who  went  to  his 
grave  with  the  conviction  that  he  above  all  men 
had  discharged  the  duties  of  a  Christian  monarch. 

I  am  now,  as  you  may  suppose,  enjoying  my 
repose,  with  all  my  interest  (an  interest  that  I 
trust  will  last  as  long  as  my  life)  in  literary 
subjects,  especially  in  history  and  in  poetry,  full 
and  unexhausted  ;  but  I  am  not  engaging  in  any 
severe  or  continuous  labour.  Solve  senescentem  is 
one  of  the  wisest  adages  of  wise  antiquity,  though 
the  aged  horse,  if  he  finds  a  pleasant  meadow, 
may  allow  himself  a  light  and  easy  canter.  I  am 


1^2       ARTICLES   IN    "QUARTERLY   REVIEW"   [CHAP. 

taking  most  kindly  to  my  early  friends,  the  classic 
writers.  Having  read,  in  the  course  of  my  later 
life,  so  much  bad  Greek  and  Latin,  I  have  a  right 
to  refresh  myself;  and  very  refreshing  it  is,  with 
the  fine,  clear  writings  of  Greece  and  Rome.  I 
was  tempted  a  few  months  ago,  by  my  reviving 
passion,  and  by  regard  for  Guizot,.  to  make  an 
article  in  the  Quarterly  Review  on  his  son's  very 
pleasing  and  agreeable  book  on  Menander,  or  rather 
on  Menander  himself,  the  purest  of  the  pure  old 
Greeks.  To  the  last  number  but  one,  too,  I  was 
tempted  to  contribute  an  article  by  the  Life  of  that 
mysterious  and,  as  well  to  a  lover  of  Italian  as 
to  one  who  feels  a  deep  interest  in  remarkable 
developments  of  Christian  character,  profoundly  in- 
teresting Savonarola.  I  venture  to  inform  you  of 
these  articles,  as  you  perhaps  may  read  them  out 
of  friendly  interest  in  me. 

So  far  had  I  written,  when,  behold !  your  second 
letter  made  its  appearance,  announcing  your  pro- 
mised present  of  (<  Charles  V."  I  at  first  thought 
of  throwing  what  I  had  written  behind  the  fire,  but 
soon  determined  rather  to  inflict  upon  you  another 
sheet,  with  my  best  thanks  and  assurances  that  I 
shall  not  leave  my  neighbour  Mr.  Routledge  long 
at  peace. 

The  event  of  your  Presidential  Election  was  so 
fully  expected  with  us  that  it  excited  no  surprise  ; 
we  were  rather  inclined  to  wonder  at  the  large 
minority,  considering  the  drag  of  the  Fillmore  party, 
for  Fremont.  What  I  least  like  in  the  affair  is, 
that  one  of  so  calm  a  temperament  as  yours,  not 
accustomed  to  mingle  in  fiercer  politics,  should  take 
so  gloomy  a  view  of  Mr.  Buchanan's  success.  May 
I  say,  in  the  strictest  confidence,  that  of  all  your 
representatives  in  this  country  whom  I  have  known, 
and  some  I  have  known  for  whom  I  have  felt  great 
admiration  and  most  sincere  friendship,  I  was  least 


VIIL]  MR.    BUCHANAN  193 

prepossessed  in  favour  of  your  future  President ; 
yet  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  strong  opposition 
that  he  has  encountered  from  your  sober  and  steady 
North  will  act  as  a  restraint  upon  a  man,  if  of  great 
ambition,  it  struck  me  of  no  common  prudence. 
Will  he  provoke  any  unnecessary  hostility  among 
those  who  may  become  much  stronger  for  a  cause 
which  he  must  know  to  be  in  the  long-run  contrary 
to  the  higher  and  nobler  feelings  of  mankind  ?  He 
strikes  me  as  a  man  more  likely  to  adopt  an  accom- 
modating than  a  desperate  policy.  With  you  I 
cannot  but  fear,  but  at  the  same  time  I  cannot  but 
hope,  at  least  till  the  fourth  year  comes  round 
again  in  its  fatal  cycle. 

You  are  very  kind  in  the  interest  you  take  in  the 
reprint  of  my  book  in  America.  I  am  rejoiced  to 
find  that  it  has  not  yet  been  undertaken.  Murray 
gives  me  hope  that  a  new  edition  will  be  called  for. 
This  will  give  me  an  opportunity  of  correcting  some 
few  errors,  mere  defects  of  style,  and  still  more 
mistakes  in  the  printing.  I  should  be  very  sorry  to 
be  launched,  as  it  were  for  ever,  before  your  vast  and 
increasing  reading  public  until  I  have  given  a  last 
and  more  perfect  finish  to  the  whole.  If  I  should 
not  have  the  opportunity  of  doing  this  soon  in 
England,  and  should  any  publisher  determine  on 
the  hazard  of  reprinting  in  America,  I  should  much 
wish  to  furnish  a  list  of  corrections.  For  this  reason 
any  notice  of  such  intention  would  be  most  welcome 
and  valuable. 

And  now,  to  close,  my  dear  friend,  I  must  add 
Mrs.  Milman's  kind  love.  She  begs  me  to  say  that 
you  have  read  her  a  lesson  of  charity  towards  Philip 
the  Second,  which  she  almost  doubts  whether  your 
eloquence  can  fully  enforce  upon  her. 

H.    H.    MlLMAN. 

Do  come  and  see  us  again,  or  make  me  twenty 
years  younger,  that  I  may  cross  to  you. 


194  MR.    PRESCOTT'S   CHARACTER  [CHAP. 

There  was  a  singular  attractiveness  in  Mr. 
Prescott's  character,  of  which  distance  had  no  power 
to  lessen  the  force,  and  the  letters  which  have  been 
given  show  how  much  he  had  endeared  himself  to 
his  English  friends.  Kindred  pursuits  and  kindred 
tastes  were  an  additional  bond  of  sympathy  between 
him  and  my  father,  and  hence  the  warmth  of  affec- 
tionate friendship  which  their  letters  disclose.  The 
correspondence  was  unbroken  until  Mr.  Prescott's 
death  early  in  1859.  A  conversation  with  Mr. 
Prescott  the  evening  before  the  day  of  his  death, 
as  reported  by  Mr.  Milburn,*  is  another  proof 
of  the  strength  of  his  regard  for  his  friends  in 
England. 

He  then  [says  Mr.  Milburn]  led  the  conversation 
to  his  English  friends,  to  some  of  whom  he  had 
given  me  letters  on  my  recent  visit  to  that  country. 
He  first  spoke  of  Lady  Lyell,  the  wife  of  the  cele- 
brated geologist.  .  .  .  "  And,"  he  continued,  "  you  saw 
my  friend  Dean  Milman.  What  an  admirable  person 
he  is !  I  had  a  letter  from  him  only  a  day  or  two 
since,  in  which  he  gave  an  interesting  account  of  the 
opening  of  his  Cathedral,  St.  Paul's,  to  the  popular 
Sunday-evening  preachings — a  matter  which  has 
enlisted  all  the  sympathies  of  the  Bishop  of  London 
and  of  himself.  He  has  been  a  prodigiously  hard 
worker,  and  so  has  acquired  a  prematurely  old 
look.  Accomplished  as  historian,  divine,  poet,  and 
man  of  letters,  he  is  at  the  same  time  among  the 
most  agreeable  and  finished  men  of  society  I  saw 
in  England." 

*  The  conversation  is  printed  in  Ticknor's  "Life  of  Prescott," 
Appendix  F.,  p.  472. 


VIIL]  HIS   DEATH  195 

The  next  letter  speaks  for  itself: — 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

Jebruary  igth,  1859. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  TICKNOR, — 

I  must  unburthen  myself  to  some  one  of  the 
profound  sorrow  which  I  (I  should  have  written  we) 
feel  for  our  irreparable  loss.     I  have  had  the  happi- 
ness  to   form   and   retain    the  friendship  of  many 
excellent  men.     No  one  has  ever,  considering  the 
short  personal  intercourse  which  I  enjoyed  with  him, 
and   our   but   occasional   correspondence,    wakened 
such  strong  and  lasting  attachment.     He  found  his 
way  at  once  to  my  heart,  and  has  there  remained, 
and   ever   wijl  remain,   during   the  brief  period  to 
which  I  can  now  look  forward,  as  an  object  of  the 
warmest   esteem   and   affection.     I   think    I   should 
have  loved  the  man  if  I  had  only  known  him  as  an 
author ;  his  personal  society  only  showed  his  cordial, 
liberal,  gentle  character  in  a  more  distinct  and  inti- 
mate form.     That  which  was  admiration  became  love. 
There  is  here  but  one  feeling  among  those  who  had 
not  the  good  fortune  to  know  him,  as  among  those 
who  knew  him  best — deep  regret  for  a  man  who  did 
honour  to  the  literature  of  our  common  language, 
and  whose  writings,  from  their  intrinsic  charm  and 
excellence,   were  most  popular,  without  any  art  or 
attempt  to  win  popularity.     The  suddenness  of  the 
blow  aggravates  its  heaviness.     I  had  written  to  him 
but  a  few  weeks  ago  (I  doubt  not  that  he  received 
my  letter),  expressing  the  common  admiration  with 
which  his  last  volume  was  received  here  by  all  whose 
opinion  he  and  his  most  discerning    friends  would 
think  of  the  highest  value.     In  one  respect  he  has 
ended  well,  for  he  never  surpassed  passages  in  the 
last  volume  ;  but  it  is  sad  to  think  that  he  has  ended, 
and  left  his  work  incomplete.     I  can   hardly  hope 
that  much  can  be  left  finished  by  his  hand  ;  if  any- 
thing is  left,    I  trust  it  will  pass  into  the  hand  of 


A   SAD   YEAR  [CHAP. 

him  best  qualified  to  shape  and  mould  it  into  form — 
yourself.  As  I  feel  that  I  can  express  our  sorrows 
to  no  one  so  fitly  as  to  you,  so  there  is  no  one 
to  whom  the  sacred  memory  of  our  friend  can  be 
entrusted  with  equal  confidence.  From  all  that  I 
have  heard,  his  end  (premature  as  our  affection  cannot 
but  think  it)  was  painless  and  peaceful.  And  if,  as 
surely  we  may  believe,  the  possession  and  the  devotion 
of  such  admirable  gifts  to  their  best  uses,  the  pro- 
motion of  knowledge,  humanity,  charity  in  its  widest 
sense ;  if  a  life,  I  fully  believe,  perfectly  blameless  ; 
if  the  discharge  of  all  domestic  duties,  so  as  to  secure 
the  tenderest  attachment  of  all  around ;  if  a  calm, 
quiet,  gentle,  tolerant  faith,  will  justify,  as  no  doubt 
they  may,  our  earnest  hopes,  he  is  in  that  better 
peace  which  has  no  end. 

Both  Mrs.  Milman  and  I  trust  that  you  will  under- 
take the  friendly  office  of  communicating  our  common 
sorrow  to  those  whose  sorrow  must  be  more  poignant 
than  ours,  though,  I  venture  to  say,  not  more  sincere. 
We  shall  always  think  with  warm  interest  of  all  who 
bear  the  honoured  name  of  Prescott,  or  are  con- 
nected by  ties  of  kindred  and  affection  with  him. 
And  permit  me  to  add,  to  yourself,  our  kindest  con- 
dolences, our  best  wishes,  and  our  hopes  that  we 
may  see  you  again,  and  soon,  in  Europe. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Mr.  Ticknor, 

Ever  your  sincere  friend, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

This  year  (1859),  which  in  its  earliest  month  was 
saddened  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Prescott,  might  indeed 
be  marked  throughout  as  one  fatal  to  literature ;  and 
how  much  my  father  felt  the  repeated  losses  may 
be  gathered  from  the  two  following  letters.  To 
Mrs.  Austin  at  its  close,  and  soon  after  the  death  of 
her  husband,  Mr.  John  Austin,  he  writes  : — 


VIIL]  DEATH   OF   MR.    AUSTIN  197 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

December  24^,  1859. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  AUSTIN, — 

Under  such  circumstances  friendship,  sincere 
old  friendship,  cannot  be  silent  ;  but  what  can  it 
suggest  which  has  not  suggested  itself  to  a  mind 
and  heart  like  yours  ?  You  have  lost  not  only  one 
of  whom  you  might  be  so  justly  proud,  but  the  object 
of  your  care  and  anxiety  during  many  years ;  and 
nothing  is  so  endearing  to  a  true  woman  as  to  be  to 
her  an  object  of  tender  solicitude  and  watchfulness. 
We  may  perhaps  regret  that  a  mind  and  intellect  like 
your  husband's  did  not  command,  as  it  might  have 
done,  more  wide  and  general  admiration  ;  that  he 
denied  himself  that  fame  which  he  might  have 
acquired  if  he  had  put  forth  before  the  public  his  full 
strength.  But  those  who  knew  him  knew  what  there 
was  in  him,  and  few  could  more  highly  appreciate 
his  calm  wisdom,  vast  knowledge,  and  reasoning 
powers  than  myself.  I  have  much  regretted  that  of 
late  years,  from  the  seclusion  which  wisely  perhaps 
for  his  own  happiness  he  chose,  I  had  so  few  oppor- 
tunities of  enjoying  and  profiting  by  his  society  ;  but 
his  memory  will  remain  with  me  as  that  of  one  of 
the  most  clear  and  vigorous  intellects  and  agreeable 
associates  whom  I  have  encountered  in  life.  Let 
me  assure  you  (you  need  not,  I  trust,  the  assurance) 
of  my  profound  sympathy  and  most  sincere  regard. 
When  you  admit  any  of  your  friends  to  your  widowed 
solitude,  Mrs.  Milman  and  I  earnestly  hope  that  we 
shall  not  be  the  last  to  be  allowed  that  privilege. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Mrs.  Austin 

(and  in  this  my  wife  cordially  joins), 

Most  sincerely  and  affectionately, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 


Shortly  after  Mr.  Prescott's  death,  in  answer  to 
an  application  from  Mr.  Ticknor,  who  had  under- 


LIFE   OF    PRESCOTT  [CHAP. 

taken  to  write  his  Life,  my  father  sent  over  to 
Mr.  Ticknor  so  much  of  Mr.  Prescott's  correspond- 
ence as  he  could  find. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

June  22nd,  1859. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  TICKNOR, — 

I  enclose  in  this  parcel  all  the  letters  which 
I  and  Mrs.  Milman  can  find  from  our  dear  friend, 
and  entrust  them  to  your  care,  in  full  confidence  that 
they  will  cross  the  Atlantic  in  safety,  and  return  to 
us  as  precious  treasures,  memorials  of  one  whom  we 
loved.  I  think  that  I  must  have  received  more ;  if 
more  come  to  light,  I  will  forward  them.  Perhaps 
there  is  not  much  in  these  which  will  interest  either 
the  biographer  or  the  public ;  but  a  successful  and 
pleasant  Life  is  made  up  of  so  many  fine  and  delicate 
touches  that  it  is  impossible  to  determine  what  may 
or  may  not  be  of  use,  may  be  suggestive,  or  give  a 
gleam  of  light  upon  a  noble  and  gentle  character. 

The  return  of  these  letters  is  acknowledged  in  the 
next  letter,  which  emphasizes  the  successive  losses 
which  literature  had  in  the  preceding  year  sustained, 
one  following  upon  another  with  startling  rapidity. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

January  loth,  1860. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  TICKNOR, — 

The  letters  have  arrived  in  perfect  safety. 
I  fear,  however,  that  they  will  have  helped  you 
little  in  your  sad  but  grateful  task.  I  thank  you 
for  your  most  interesting  though  gloomy  vaticina- 
tions about  your  country.  I  cannot,  however, 
persuade  myself  to  think  that  liberty  and  civiliza- 
tion are  to  suffer  so  terrible  a  blow  as  the  disruption 
of  your  Union,  with  all  its  terrible  consequences.  It 
will  be  an  awful  lesson.  The  violation  of  any  one 
of  the  great  eternal  principles  of  humanity  will  bring 


viii.]  LORD   MACAULAY'S   FUNERAL  199 

its  own  chastisement.  Yet  I  cannot  but  hope  that 
in  some  inscrutable  way  the  dark  question  may 
work  itself  out,  however  slowly,  without  that  fatal 
catastrophe.  But  our  mind,  my  mind,  is  now  so 
fully  occupied  with  nearer  sorrows  that  I  can 
hardly  speculate  on  the  more  remote.  Yesterday 
we  committed  to  the  earth,  in  the  walls  of  our 
venerable  Abbey,  one  [Lord  Macaulay]  whom  the 
world,  the  American  world  as  ourselves,  will  deplore, 
as  holding  the  highest  place  in  English  letters;  I, 
with  some  others,  as  a  dearest  friend,  whose  kind- 
liness of  disposition  and  affection  for  his  friends 
rivalled  his  transcendent  powers.  It  was  a  melan- 
choly but  an  imposing  sight,  from  its  calm  and 
dignified  simplicity.  My  dear  wife  was  struck  with 
seeing  around  the  grave  so  many  of  those  whom  she 
had  so  constantly  seen  with  him  at  his  own  hospitable 
board  and  elsewhere :  he  now  in  the  silence  of  the 
bier ;  they  in  the  silence  of  sorrow — they  to  whom 
he  used  to  pour  forth  so  freely  the  inexhaustible 
stores  of  his  memory  and  knowledge,  they  listening 
and  bearing  their  part  in  the  general  flow  of  such 
conversation  as  has  been  rarely  heard,  will  be  more 
rarely  heard  again.  You,  I  know,  have  been  present 
more  than  once  at  these  meetings — meetings  which 
can  never  occur  again,  and  will  leave  a  void  in  my 
life  which  can  never  be  filled.  You  will  no  doubt 
have  seen,  probably  in  the  Times,  a  full  and  true 
account  of  the  ceremony.  It  devolved  on  me  to  take 
a  leading  part  in  the  arrangements,  the  interment 
in  the  Abbey,  the  choice  of  the  spot,  close  to  the 
feet  of  Addison's  statue,  within  a  rod  or  three  yards 
of  Johnson.  They  were  two  of  the  great  objects  of 
his  generous  admiration.  Alas !  what  a  fatal  year 
for  letters  !  It  began  with  Hallam,  though  that  was 
but  a  man,  full  of  years  and  honours,  gathered  in  his 
time  to  his  rest ;  our  dear  Prescott,  suddenly,  like 
our  dear  Macaulay  ;  John  Austin,  whom  I  suspect 


200  MOUNTSTUART   ELPHINSTONE  [CHAP. 

you  can  hardly  have  seen,  but  a  man  who  shrank 
from  the  fame  which  he  might  have  commanded  ; 
Mountstuart  Elphinstone,  another  of  our  greatest 
men,  who  refused  greatness,  who  could  have  been 
at  any  time  Governor-General  of  India,  had  his 
ambition  been  equal  to  his  capacities,  the  gentlest  as 
well  as  one  of  the  wisest  of  men,  and  certainly  the 
writer  of  the  best,  if  not  the  most  popular,  history 
of  India;  your  Washington  Irving;  de  Tocqueville, 
whom  I  knew  but  little,  but  the  French  writer 
with  more  of  English  sound  sense  (you  see  I  write 
to  you  as  an  Englishman)  than  any  of  his  country- 
men ;  and  now  Macaulay !  Who  is  to  rise  and  fill 
their  place  ?  But  I  cannot  write  more.  I  could  not 
refrain  from  writing  as  much  on  a  loss  which  you 
will  feel,  if  not  so  deeply,  as  sincerely  as  we  do. 

Nothing  as  yet  is  known  as  to  what  is  left 
behind.  I  fear  there  can  be  little  more  than 
materials,  wanting  the  life,  wanting  the  fulness, 
wanting  the  finish  of  his  mind  and  hand.  I  am, 
however,  inclined  to  trespass  on  your  friendship  by 
a  commission.  I  suspect  that  you  in  America  have 
reprinted  certain  works  of  his  which  have  not  been 
reprinted  in  England.  The  "  Essays,"  I  believe, 
contain  some  things  not  in  our  editions.  Have 
you  reprinted  all  the  "  Ballads  "  ?  Above  all,  have 
you  reprinted  the  lives  from  the  "  Encyclopaedia 
Britannica  "•—  those  of  Atterbury,  Bunyan,  Goldsmith, 
Johnson,  William  Pitt  ?  Would  it  give  you  much 
trouble  to  send  me  anything  of  his  which  has  issued 
from  your  press,  but  not  in  a  collected  form  from 
ours  ?  You  will,  I  am  assured,  enter  into  the  feelings 
which  prompt  this  request. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Mr.  Ticknor, 
With  great  regard,  ever  most  sincerely  yours, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

Mrs.  Milman  unites  with  me  in  kindest  remem- 
brances and  good  wishes  to  you  and  yours. 


VIIL]  MEMOIR   OF   MACAULAY  2OI 

With  reference  to  the  part  which  my  father  took 
in  the  arrangements  for  Lord  Macaulay's  funeral, 
referred  to  in  the  foregoing  letter,  his  sister,  Lady 
Trevelyan,  wrote : — 

Whatever  you  do  or  say  must  be  pleasing  to 
us.  Who  should  act  but  so  kind  a  friend  ? 

And   on   the   evening  after  the  funeral    was   over, 
January  Qth,  1860,  she  writes  to  my  mother: — 

I  cannot  go  to  bed  to-night  without  begging  you 
to  convey  to  dear  Dean  Milman  our  most  warm 
and  grateful  thanks  for  all  he  has  done.  I  know 
well  he  did  it  in  a  great  measure  to  satisfy  his  own 
affectionate  desire  to  do  honour  to  his  friend,  but 
I  still  should  like  him  to  know  how  much  and 
deeply  we  have  felt  his  great  personal  trouble  and 
the  perfection  and  beauty  of  all  his  arrangements. 

At  the  request  of  the  President  and  Council  my 
father  wrote  a  brief  obituary  memoir  of  Macaulay 
for  the  Journal  of  the  Royal  Society,  which  was 
afterwards  reprinted  as  an  introduction  to  the 
"  History  of  England."  It  was  not  intended  to  do 
more  than  supply  an  immediate  demand,  pending 
the  more  full  and  copious  biography  which  he 
anticipated,  and  which  was  in  due  time  published 
with  brilliant  success  by  Sir  George  Trevelyan. 

A~few  more  letters  to  and  from  Mrs.  Austin,  the 
first  of  them  referring  to  the  death  of  my  father's 
old  and  much-valued  friend,  Dr.  Hawtrey,  may  here 
be  inserted. 


202  DEATH   OF   DR.    HAWTREY  [CHAP. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

January  i%th,  1862. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  AUSTIN, — 

Let  me  first  express  my  sincere  admiration  of 
the  inscription  over  the  remains  of  your  excellent 
husband.  It  is  a  most  successful  attempt  in  the 
most  difficult  style  of  composition, — simple,  yet  full, 
expressing  in  a  few  emphatic,  well-chosen  words 
(and  this  is  the  somewhat  unaccountable  privilege  of 
Latin  over  modern  languages)  all  that  ought  to  be 
expressed  ;  suggestive,  but  not  vague  ;  strong,  but 
neither  forced  nor  laboured.  It  becomes  the  man 
whose  character  will  live  upon  his  gravestone  as 
it  lives  in  the  memories  of  those  who  had  the 
happiness  of  knowing  him  intimately. 

And  now  for  the  other  sad  subject  of  our  common 
sorrow.  With  me  it  is  a  friendship  of  boyhood,  kept 
up  with  more  or  less  kindly  intercourse  since  our  Eton 
days,  with  very  many  common  subjects  of  interest. 
Little  did  I  think,  when  I  accepted  the  offer  of  his 
Mapledurham  house  in  the  summer,  and  had  the 
enjoyment  of  his  society  every  other  Sunday,  and 
sometimes  the  Saturday  also,  that  we  were  not  to 
meet  again  in  this  world.*  I  begin  sadly  to  feel  the 
inevitable  lot  of  prolonged  life.  My  dearest  friends 
are  dropping  round  me  with  frightful  frequency.  I 
cannot  say  that  I  do  not  make  new  and  younger 
friends,  but  they  are  not  the  old.  I  really  think  the 
Provost  was  almost  the  last  of  those  whom  I  knew 
well  (there  may  be  others,  and  I  doubt  not  are,  but 
I  know  not  where  to  find  them),  to  the  end  of  whose 
tether  in  reading — especially  in  reading  works  of 
imagination,  scholarship,  and  what  are  called  les 

*  The  Vicarage,  Mapledurham,  which  Dr.  Hawtrey  had  lent  to 
my  father  for  the  summer  months,  coming  over  himself  each  Saturday 
for  the  Sunday  duty.  It  was  delightful  to  hear  the  conversation  of 
these  two  old  Eton  friends  on  their  school,  scholarship,  literature, 
and  other  subjects  in  which  they  had  common  memories  and 
sympathetic  tastes. 


viii.]  LOSS   OF   FRIENDS  203 

belles-lettres  in  all  languages — I  did  not  come, — 
men  of  the  Hallam  and  Macaulay  type.  And  this 
dreary  close,  worse  than  removal.  Of  all  pathetic 
lines  none  move  me  more  to  tears  than  old  Johnson's : 

From  Marlb' rough's  eyes  the  streams  of  dotage  flow, 
And  Swift  expires  a  driv'ler  and  a  show. 

And  it  is  a  case  in  which  friendship  must  fold  its 
hands  and  be  content  to  do  nothing.  Our  friend 
Senior  was  as  a  lawyer  of  infinite  use,  and  must 
have  found  melancholy  satisfaction  in  being  of  use  ; 
but  it  would  be  a  great  question  whether  the  sight 
of  old  friends  whom  he  might  recognize,  and  with 
whom  he  could  not  communicate,  would  not  be 
distressing  rather  than  consoling. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Austin,  now  that  our  ranks  are  so 

sadly  thinned,  we  should  draw  closer  to  each  other  ; 

we  must  love  each  other  more  as  we  feel  we  must  soon 

part.    All  Mrs.  Milman's  affectionate  remembrances. 

Your  most  sincere  friend, 

H.    H.    MlLMAN. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S. 

January  \th,  1866. 

MY  DEAR  MRS.  AUSTIN, — 

I  have  been  a  prisoner  since  Christmas  Day — 
one  of  my  severe  colds,  with  latent  gout,  which 
will  not  gratify  my  malicious  doctors  by  showing 
itself  in  an  honest  and  open  form.  I  am,  however, 
much  better.  Many  thanks  for  Mr.  Martineau. 
I  have  only  his  Review  writings,  but  they  have 
impressed  me  with  a  very  high  opinion  of  his 
intellect  and  (tell  it  not  in  Oxford)  of  his  religion. 
When  you  speak  of  the  old  Unitarianism,  I  presume 
you  mean  the  low  and  dry  Belshamism,*  about  as 

*  Thomas  Belsham,  1750-1829,  was  the  son  of  a  Dissenting 
minister.  He  became  an  Independent  1768,  and  afterwards  a 
Unitarian.  He  was  Professor  of  Divinity  at  the  Hackney  College, 
and  succeeded  Priestley  as  minister  of  the  Gravel  Pit  Unitarian 
Chapel.  He  was  a  voluminous  controversial  writer,  apparently  of 
rather  the  high  and  dry  school,  in  all  his  shifting  phases. 


204  MR.    MARTINEAU  [CHAP. 

religious  as  much  of  the  high  and  dry  in  other 
quarters.  The  tract  you  have  sent  me  would  be 
more  useful  perhaps  in  other  quarters  where  it  is 
more  needed  than  in  Manchester.  The  danger 
there,  I  apprehend,  is  absolute  repudiation  of  all 
old  belief  and  the  adoption  of  new  theories  without 
grave  examination.  I  accept  all  the  results  of 
philosophy,  of  natural  science,  freely  and  without 
the  least  fear,  but  I  am  disposed  to  submit  critical 
enquiry  to  severe  criticism.  Let  it  have  its  full 
liberty,  but  let  me  have  the  liberty  of  rejecting  it, 
if  I  think  it  arbitrary  and  paradoxical.  So  much 
in  general.  For  Mr.  Martineau  I  have  the  utmost 
respect ;  and  if  we  come  across  each  other,  I  suspect 
that  there  would  be  much  sympathy.  I  have  not 
renewed  the  expression  of  my  deep  feeling  for  the 
sad  account  which  you  give  me  of  your  separation 
from  your  daughter,  as  not  considering  it  as  the  most 
important  part  of  your  communication.  Still,  I  trust 
that  it  is  only  banishment  to  a  warmer  climate 
which  is  required,  and  that  you  may  still  keep 
up  your  correspondence,  though  at  a  distance — a 
correspondence  in  which  others  as  well  as  you  have 
felt  a  very  lively  interest.  The  only  doubt  that 
I  could  entertain  as  to  the  success  of  your  admirable 
husband's  book  was  whether  there  were  as  many  as 
there  ought  to  be  who  could  appreciate  it.  I  do  not 
think  more  highly  of  him  or  of  you  for  its  success, 
but  of  what  I  suppose  one  can  call  by  no  other 
than  the  ordinary  name,  of  the  public.  I  hail  any 
sign  of  advancement  in  that  quarter  with '  much 
satisfaction. 

April  iSM,  1866. 

DEAR  DEAN, — 

Comforting  rumours  reached  me  while  I  was 
so  ill  of  the  kind  interest  you  took  in  me,  for  which 
first  let  me  thank  you  with  all  my  heart.  I  really 
don't  know  why  I  or  those  who  care  for  me 


VIIL]   PREFACE  TO   TRANSLATION   OF   RANKE     205 

should  desire  the  prolongation  of  a  life  so  denuded 
of  all  that  makes  life  valuable,  yet  I  cannot  help 
being  pleased  at  the  thought  that  there  are  still 
some  kind  friends  who  would  not  like  to  part  with 
me  for  ever.  I  am  better,  as  it  seems,  and  very  likely 
to  be  for  a  while  much  as  I  was  before  this  singular 
and  violent  attack,  which  is  not  saying  much ;  but 
it  may  enable  me  to  do  something  more  towards 
the  completion  of  my  work.  Meantime  we  are 
coming  out,  as  you  will  see,  with  a  new  edition  of 
Ranke  which  has  been  called  for.  Murray  asked 
me  to  write  a  few  words  of  preface — "  by  way,"  as 
he  said,  "  of  giving  a  little  tclat  to  the  edition." 
Nothing  can  be  more  incongruous  than  tclat  and 
my  poor  self,  and  I  have  literally  nothing  to  say. 
I  said  what  I  thought  of  the  book  before.  I  cannot 
well  bepraise  my  translation.  What  remains?  It 
occurred  to  me,  most  dear  and  venerable  Dean, 
that  perhaps  out  of  friendship  to  Murray  (who  so 
well  deserves  it)  you  would  prefix  a  page  or  two 
to  this  edition.  The  times  are  suggestive,  and  it 
is  to  be  desired  that  among  the  many  who  call  out 
for  the  downfall  of  the  Papacy  some  few  would 
endeavour  to  know  what  it  really  is  and  what  the 
dangers  that  threaten  it.  The  temptation  to  beg 
you  to  grant  me  the  honour  and  favour — nay,  some- 
thing more  than  either — of  once  before  I  depart 
seeing  your  revered  name  lend  its  authority  to 
anything  I  have  done  is  so  great  that  I  am  not 
in  a  condition  to  know  whether  what  I  ask  is  absurd 
or  impertinent  or  exacting.  You  will  forgive  me 
even  an  indiscreet  request. 

I  forget  whether  I  ever  sent  you  a  copy  *  of  the 
inscription  on  my  husband's  tomb.  All  of  it  except 
a  few  words  is  mine  :  those  and  some  few  corrections 
I  owe  to  my  dear,  valued  friend  Hawtrey.  My  last 
visit  to  him  was  about  this.  I  have  put  down  on 

*  This  had  been  previously  sent.    See  p.  202. 


206  RANKE'S   STYLE  [CHAP. 

paper  a  few  words  which  (or  something  to  the  same 
effect)  are  to  be  added  on  the  side  left  vacant  till 
my  time  comes.  Will  you  be  so  very  kind  as  to 
tell  me  if  you  think  it  will  do  ?  It  is  all  I  would 
have  said  of  me.  My  kindest  regards  to  Mrs. 
Milman. 

Believe  me  always,  dear  Dean, 

Yours,  with  the  most  affectionate  respect, 

SARAH  AUSTIN. 

Apriltfh. 

DEAR  DEAN, — 

I  am  struck  with  shame  and  remorse  at  the 
appearance  of  the  enclosed.  Your  kind  note  in 
answer  to  my  foolish  and  impertinent  request 
awakened  me  instantly  to  its  real  character.  I 
thought  I  saw  through  the  veil  of  kindness  and 
courtesy  with  which  you  know  how  to  cover  what- 
ever may  vex  or  disappoint,  that  you  had  rather 
not  do  what  I,  or  rather  Murray,  asked.  And, 
doing  scant  justice  to  your  unbounded  desire  to 
serve  and  oblige,  I  thought  the  matter  would  drop 
of  itself.  If  I  had  not  thought  so,  I  should  have 
written  immediately  to  say  that  I  felt  the  inconve- 
nance  of  my  request,  and  begged  you  to  think  no  more 
of  it.  I  have  no  pecuniary  interest  in  the  book  ; 
and  as  for  your  commendations,  dear  Dean,  how- 
ever sweet  and  precious  they  may  be,  I  should  not 
have  begged  them.  Now  that  I  have  read  what 
you  have  done  me  the  honour  to  say,  I  am  shocked 
at  feeling  that  /  have  asked  for  a  puff.  I  cannot 
beg  you  to  withdraw  what  you  have  so  graciously 
written,  but  I  must  entreat  you  to  consider  yourself 
at  perfect  liberty  to  do  so — as  far  as  I  am  concerned. 
What  your  friendship  for  Murray  may  prompt  I 
must  not  interfere  in.  I  have  ventured  to  make 
two  or  three  slight  alterations.  Having  had  a  much 
nearer  view  of  Ranke's  style  than  a  mere  reader 
could  or  needed  to  have,  I  cannot  subscribe  to 


VIIL]  M.   GUIZOT  207 


your  praise  of  it  as  lucid  and  easy.  Yet  it  certainly 
is,  as  you  say,  free  from  the  character  of  unwieldiness, 
so  common  to  Germans. 

I  had  a  letter  yesterday  from  M.  Guizot  which 
I  think  it  will  interest  you  to  read.  You  are  one 
of  the  very  few  to  whom  I  wish  to  show  it.  It  has 
all  the  solemnity  of  a  farewell.  As  such  I  receive 
and  shall  reply  to  it.  I  wish  I  could  share  his  con- 
fidence. He  said  to  me  while  I  was  engaged  on 
my  husband's  book,  "  Je  suis  sur  que  M.  Austin 

voit  ce  que  vous  faites."     My  dear  neighbour 

had  the  strongest  conviction  not  only  of  &  future  life, 
but  that  it  was  even  now  only  hidden  from  us  by 
a  veil.  I  feel  as  if  I  was  dull  and  gross  and  stupid, 
that  I  cannot  arrive  at  this.  God  forgive  me ! 
Lady  E.  died  in  a  sort  of  rapture.  Her  loss  is  a 
very  grievous  one  to  me. 

With  kind  regards  to  Mrs.  Milman, 

I  am,  dear  and  revered  sir  and  friend, 

Yours,  S.  AUSTIN. 

Although  my  father  had  himself  triumphed  over 
the  difficulties  by  which  his  early  life  had  been 
beset  on  account  of  the  suspicion  and  alarm  which 
had  been  aroused  in  some  quarters  by  his  first 
historical  work,  he  never,  it  has  been  remarked, 
lost  thought  of  others  still  struggling  as  he  had 
struggled,  but  was  always  ready  to  lend  a  helping 
hand  to  rising  merit,  to  foster  any  new  light,  to 
speak  a  word  in  good  season  for  the  protection  of 
any  who  might  be  suffering  from  a  similar  injustice, 
or  to  do  away  with  a  prejudice  lingering  after  the 
cause  of  it  had  been  removed.  A  feeling  of  this 
kind,  enhanced  by  old  family  friendship  which  after- 
wards became  a  sincere  personal  regard,  gave 


208  CHICHELEY   PROFESSORSHIP  [CHAP. 

occasion  to  the  following  letter,  which,  now  that 
he  in  whose  behalf  it  was  written,  the  person  to 
whom  it  was  addressed,  and  the  writer  are  long 
since  dead,  there  may  be  no  harm,  there  may  be 
perhaps  benefit,  in  reproducing.  The  Archbishop 
was  Sumner ;  the  new  professorship,  the  Chicheley 
Professorship  of  Modern  History,  to  which  Mr. 
Montague  Burrows  was  eventually  appointed,  and 
for  which  Mr.  J.  A.  Froude  was  a  candidate. 

MAPLEDURHAM,  July  bth,  1861. 

MY  DEAR  LORD  ARCHBISHOP, — 

You  are  no  doubt  aware  that  it  is  proposed 
to  establish  a  new  Professorship  of  English  History 
at  Oxford,  of  which  your  Grace  is  one  of  the 
electors.  Mr.  Froude,  the  historian,  is  a  candidate 
for  that  office.  Of  his  ability,  his  indefatigable 
industry;  of  his  admirable  style;  indeed — notwith- 
standing some  of  his  historical  paradoxes,  which 
I  fully  admit  and  constantly  oppose — of  his  qualifica- 
tions in  every  respect,  there  can  be  no  doubt. 

But  objections  may  naturally  arise,  especially  in 
your  Grace's  mind,  on  account  of  opinions  which 
he  unfortunately  entertained  and  professed  in  his 
youthful  days.  It  happens  that  on  this  point  I  can 
most  conscientiously  furnish  testimony  in  his  favour 
which  it  is  but  justice  to  him,  justice  to  the  electors, 
justice  especially  to  you  and  to  the  University,  that 
I  should  frankly  communicate.  The  history  of  his 
mind  is  remarkable  and  instructive.  You  are  no 
doubt  aware  of  the  fatal  spell  which  Newman  cast 
upon  his  poor  brother,  whose  "  Remains  " — he  died 
very  early — were  the  first  proclamation  of  what  has 
been  called  the  Oxford  opinions.  Of  course  young 
Froude,  coming  up  to  Oxford,  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Newman,  his  tutor,  and  his  brother's  dear  friend. 


vin.]  ANTHONY   FROUDE  209 

Newman,  seeing  the  great  ability  of  Froude,  used 
all  his  powerful  influence,  his  subtle  arts,  to  enlist 
him  in  his  train.  But  the  spell  worked  in  this  case 
the  other  way.  Newman  set  him  to  write  lives  of 
the  Saints.  "  But  I  do  not,  I  cannot,  believe  these 
absurd,  lying  miracles."  ''Write  on,  write  boldly,  and 
you  will  believe."  The  consequence  was  even  more 
fatal.  The  recoil  threw  him  back,  as  it  naturally 
and  pardonably  might,  into  utter  unbelief.  He  left 
Oxford,  and  wrote  a  clever  but  very  melancholy 
book.  Since  this  time  meditation  and  a  strong 
mind  have  righted  him,  and  he  has  become  what 
we  should  wish  he  would  become,  certainly  to  a 
great  extent.  A  singular  accident  has  enabled  me  to 
adduce  a  very  unsuspicious  proof  of  this.  I  visited 
a  few  years  ago  his  father,  Archdeacon  Froude,  a 
very  old  friend  of  my  family.  Anthony  Froude, 
with  whom  I  was  then  unacquainted,  came  over  to 
meet  me.  It  was  Sunday.  We  went  to  church.  To 
my  great  satisfaction  I  found  that  Anthony  not  only 
attended  the  service  with  perfect  propriety  and 
becoming  devotion,  but,  it  being  Sacrament  Sunday, 
received  the  Holy  Communion  with  us.  Now,  the 
Archdeacon  was  one  of  the  most  pious,  sincere, 
conscientious  Christians  I  ever  knew  (of  the  old 
school).  If  he  had  had  the  slightest  doubt  of  his 
son's  sincerity,  nothing  would  have  induced  him  to 
receive  him  as  a  communicant.  This  your  Grace 
will  observe  was  an  ordinary  occurrence,  with 
no  such  object  in  view  as  that  for  which  in 
Cowper's  words  the  Sacrament  was  made  a  sort 
of  qualification  for  a  place. 

Since  then  I  have  continued  in  most  friendly 
relations  with  Anthony  Froude.  I  have  now  a 
letter  before  me  in  which  he  uses  these  words:  "I 
wish  to  live  and  work  as  a  conscientious  member 
of  the  Church  of  England,  and  do  some  good  where 
before  I  did  harm." 


2 1 0  M  APLEDURH  AM  [CHAP. 

There  are  two  other  circumstances  which  I  am 
desirous  to  urge  on  your  Grace  and  the  electors. 
At  a  considerable  sacrifice,  which  he  could  ill  afford, 
he  bought  up  the  copyright  of  his  obnoxious  book, 
in  order  that  it  may  not  be  reprinted.  His  college 
at  Oxford  (Exeter)  is,  I  believe,  unanimous  in  his 
favour,  the  Rector,  a  man  of  undoubted  piety, 
taking  great  interest  in  his  success. 

I  am  quite  sure  that  your  Grace  will  think  me 
fully  justified  in  bringing  these  circumstances  to 
your  knowledge.  It  would  be  cruel,  it  would  be 
unjust,  it  would  be  un-Christian,  to  fix  a  mark  of 
proscription  on  a  man  of  such  high  abilities  and 
promise  on  account  of  youthful  aberrations  (the  book 
was  written  fourteen  years  ago)  of  which  he  has 
repented — aberrations  which,  if  ever  they  were 
pardonable,  were  pardonable  under  the  very  peculiar 
and  remarkable  conditions  under  which,  with  no 
fault  of  his  own,  he  entered  life. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Lord  Archbishop,  with 
sincere  respect  and  regard,  your  Grace's  faithfully, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

I  write  from  this  charming  place  which  you 
know  so  well,  almost  under  the  shade  of  a  cedar, 
now  a  magnificent  tree,  planted,  I  believe,  by  your 
hand. 

The  Archbishop's  reply  was  in  a  very  friendly 
spirit,  and  was  much  appreciated  by  Froude,  who 
says : — 

I  return  you  the  Archbishop's  letter  with  many, 
very  many  thanks.  It  is  more  than  kind  ;  and 
whatever  comes  of  the  professorship,  I  shall  always 
feel  glad  to  have  been  spoken  of  with  so  much 
gentleness  by  him.  To  yourself  I  need  not  now 
assure  you  how  grateful  I  am  for  your  kindness. 


viii.]  FROUDE   AND   CARLYLE  21 1 

This  was  an  enduring  sentiment,  and  I  have 
many  proofs  of  the  admiration  and  affection  enter- 
tained by  Mr.  Froude  for  my  father. 

Your  father's  place  [he  wrote]  can  never  be  filled. 
The  world  has  lost  in  him  one  of  its  wisest  thinkers, 
and  I  have  lost  the  kindest  friend  I  ever  had. 

Talking  of  Froude's  paradoxes,  an  amusing  ac- 
count has  been  given  me  by  Miss  Elliot  of  a  dinner 
at  Froude's  house  at  which  she  was  present  and 
sat  between  my  father  and  Mr.  Carlyle.  Carlyle 
began  to  grumble,  looking  across  at  Froude  :  "  There 
is  a  man  who  tries  to  whitewash  and  excuse  a 
tyrant.  You  cannot  improve  them  and  you  cannot 
alter  them  by  telling  soft  lies  about  them.  They 
are  cruel,  wicked  men,  and  God  lets  them  gang 
their  ain  gait."  My  father  did  not  quite  catch 
what  Carlyle  was  saying,  and  made  his  neighbour 
repeat  it.  Being  seized  of  the  matter,  he  called 
out :  "  Listen,  Froude — listen  :  here  is  Mr.  Carlyle 
denouncing  you  for  making  Henry  VIII.  a  hero 
and  a  great  king.  Won't  you  remind  him  of 
Frederick  the  Great  ? "  Carlyle  looked  in  great 
dudgeon  for  about  half  a  minute,  and  then  burst 
out  into  a  guffaw  of  laughter. 

The  weight  which  was  attached  to  my  father's 
judgment,  the  reliance  upon  his  truthful  fairness, 
may  be  deduced  from  many  incidental  expressions 
in  the  letters  of  his  occasional  correspondents. 

Accept  [writes  the  Rev.  John  Cairns,  who  had 
sent  to  him  a  pamphlet  or  essay  upon  Strauss]  my 


212  A     PRESBYTERIAN   DISSENTER  [CHAP. 

warmest  thanks  for  the  cordiality  and  generosity 
of  your  praise,  which,  bestowed  on  the  work  of  a 
Presbyterian  Dissenter,  proves  that  the  differences 
of  our  common  Christianity  are  after  all  external 
and  incidental,  and  that  when  the  citadel  is  to  be 
defended  all  believers  are  brethren.  As  Tholuck 
once  remarked  to  me  some  more  than  twenty  years 
ago  in  Halle,  "  Die  Gelehrsamkeit  bleibt  u'ber  alle 
Gegensatze  erhaben."  But  higher  still  is  faith,  and 
highest  of  all  is  charity.  No  more  valued  suffrage 
to  my  little  treatise  could  come  from  any  quarter 
than  from  the  historian  of  the  Jews  and  of  Latin 
Christianity,  and  I  would  with  equal  readiness  have 
received  admonition  or  correction,  had  that  been 
deemed  necessary. 

And  the  letter  concludes  : — 

Once  again  let  me  gratefully  acknowledge  your 
great  kindness,  which  was  not  needed  to  enlarge 
my  heart  towards  the  Church  of  England  (though 
probably  I  should  be  found,  were  I  within  the 
pale,  which  cannot  be,  under  a  different  standard)  ; 
and  praying  that  our  common  work,  greater  and 
less,  in  the  same  ample  field,  may  be  accepted  by 
the  great  Lord  of  the  vineyard,  and  that  you  may 
yet  add  not  a  few  to  the  rich  fruits  you  have  already 
gathered,  I  remain,  etc.,  etc. 

Passing  to  quite  a  different  subject,  I  may  just 
mention  a  pleasant  interchange  of  letters  between 
my  father  and  the  then  Lord  Derby,  whose  admirable 
translation  of  the  "  Iliad "  of  Homer  had  been 
recently  published.  Mr.  Murray  had  sent  to  my 
father  and  had  asked  his  opinion  upon  two  or  three 
books  of  this  translation  which  were  forwarded 
as  a  specimen,  but  without  giving  the  slightest 


VHL]  LORD   DERBY'S   "ILIAD"  213 

indication  as  to  their  authorship.  My  father's  verdict 
was  altogether  favourable,  and  I  remember  that  he 
was  especially  taken  by  the  clear  and  manly  English 
of  the  version.  In  this  sense  he  expressed  himself 
to  Mr.  Murray.  Lord  Derby  writes  to  him  after- 
wards on  December  i6th,  1864  : — 

I  have  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  so  far  with 
the  reception  which  my  Homer  has  met  with  from 
the  "  light  artillery"  of  the  Press;  but  it  is  much 
more  gratifying  to  me  to  receive  the  approval  of  a 
scholar  and  a  poet  like  yourself.  I  assure  you  that 
it  was  the  greatest  possible  encouragement  to  me 
when  I  learnt  through  Murray  who  was  the  (to  me) 
unknown  critic  who  had  expressed  so  favourable  an 
opinion  of  the  two  sample  books  which  I  sent  him. 
I  am  afraid  you  will  have  thought  me,  though  you 
agree  with  me,  "saucy  and  overbold"  in  the  some- 
what trenchant  style  of  my  remarks  on  the  English 
hexameter ;  but  of  the  great  names  that  you  cite 
in  its  defence,  I  believe  Hawtrey  certainly  recanted 
his  heretical  opinions — at  least,  so  says  a  most 
amusing  little  pamphlet,  entitled  "  A  Letter  to  the 
Dean  of  Canterbury,"  by  Mr.  J.  Wright,  also  a 
translator  of  the  "Iliad"  in  blank  verse,  who 
vindicates  himself  and  his  metre  against  the  strictures 
of  Mr.  Arnold,  the  present  Professor  of  Poetry  at 
Oxford  ;  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  Professor 
has  the  worst  of  it.  If  you  should  not  have  seen  it, 
it  is  well  worth  the  sixpence  which,  I  think,  it  costs. 
I  was  in  great  doubt  about  the  Greek  or  Latin 
nomenclature,  and  in  my  volume  of  translations  I 
had  written  in  the  first  book  Zeus  and  Leto ;  but 
Lord  Stanhope,  who  saw  the  MS.,  urged  me  to 
adhere  throughout  to  the  Latin  names.  I  still 
waver  in  my  opinion  as  to  which  was  the  best 
course  to  be  pursued. 


214  AN   EXERCISE   OF   SCHOLARSHIP          [CHAP. 

In  several  subsequent  letters  Lord  Derby 
consults  my  father  upon  the  true  rendering  of 
doubtful  passages,  or  passages  of  which  his  in- 
terpretation had  been  criticised.  After  discussion 
of  one  or  more  of  these,  I  remember  that  one 
of  my  father's  replies  ended  with  the  hope  that 
his  Lordship,  who  had  been  suffering  from  gout, 
would  soon  be  once  more  like  his  hero,  Tro'Sa? 


In  translation  as  an  exercise  of  scholarship  my 
father  had  a  genuine  belief,  and  his  interest  in  his 
sons'  more  or  less  feeble  essays  as  schoolboys  in 
the  art  was  incessant.  He  never  could  resist 
showing  us  how  lines  "  might  be  turned "  (help 
joyfully  accepted) ;  and  many  a  tough  passage  of 
"Paradise  Lost,"  over  which  I  had  been  sadly 
pondering,  has  been  transmuted  by  his  rapid  touch 
into  rolling  Latin  hexameters.  It  will  not,  I  hope, 
be  considered  too  trivial  if  I  add  that,  in  supplying 
us  with  epigrams,  whether  Latin  or  English,  for 
school  consumption,  he  was  inexhaustible.  It  was 
an  old  custom  at  Westminster  for  the  boys  to 
recite  epigrams  once  a  year  in  the  school  on  a 
subject  given  out  by  the  headmaster  the  day 
before,  the  reciter  being  rewarded  by  a  gift  of 
silver  pence,  one,  two,  or  three,  according  to 
the  judgment  of  the  master  as  to  the  neatness 
of  the  verses.  The  epigrams  might  be  of  the 
boys'  own  composition,  or  they  were  at  liberty 
to  levy  contributions  upon  any  one  willing  to 
furnish  them  at  a  moment's  notice.  When  my 


VIIL]  EPIGRAMS  215 

father  was,  as  usual,  applied  to,  he  generally  began 
by  uttering  a  protest,  but  a  very  short  time  after- 
wards we  could  always  tell  by  an  amused  look  in 
his  face  that  one  or  more  were  ready.  Once  I 
remember,  the  subject  being  "  Aliusque  et  idem 
nascitur,"  he  gave  me,  with  scarcely  a  minute's 
interval,  the  following  version  of  the  Irishman's 
puzzle:  "  I  saw  you,  you  saw  I  ;  I  thought  that  I 
was  you  ;  you  thought  that  you  was  I  ;  and  it  was 
neither  of  us." 

Vidi  ego  te,  tu  me,  tu  te  me,  credo  ego  me  te ; 
Neuter  erat,  nos  en  idem  aliusque  sumus. 

And  on  another  occasion,  at  a  time  when  the 
Queen's  scholars  wore  breeches,  on  the  theme 
"  Crescit  et  decrescit  res,"  my  elder  brother  having 
just  been  admitted  on  to  the  foundation  : — 

I'm  increasing  in  stature,  in  wisdom,  and  knowledge  ; 
The  third  of  my  year  I  shall  go  into  college. 
But  in  one  thing  alone  there's  a  fatal  decrease  : 
My  long  pantaloons  cut  up  to  the  knees. 

In  a  review  of  Sir  John  Coleridge's  Memoir  of 
Keble  by  Dean  Stanley,  it  is  stated  that  there 
were  few  occasions  on  which  my  father's  friends 
remembered  him  to  have  given  way  to  a  warmer 
feeling  of  indignation  than  when  by  a  narrow 
prejudice  he  found  himself  excluded  after  Keble's 
death  from  joining  in  the  general  tribute  of  admira- 
tion to  his  memory.  These  feelings  seem  to  have 
found  expression  in  the  following  letter  to  Arch- 
bishop Longley. 


2l6        LETTER   TO   ARCHBISHOP   LONGLEY      [CHAP. 

WOODLANDS,  WINDLESHAM, 
July  gM,  1866. 

MY  DEAR  LORD  ARCHBISHOP, — 

I  have  received  a  printed  letter,  signed 
by  your  Grace,  inviting  me  to  contribute  to  the 
Keble  Memorial. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances  such  an  appeal 
would  have  been  most  congenial  to  my  feelings  of 
respect,  and  I  may  say  of  old  affection,  for  Keble. 
I  must  confess  that  I  have  long  wondered,  not 
without  some  shame,  and  expressed  my  wonder 
(though  not  publicly),  that,  while  the  dignities  and 
honours  of  the  Church  were  lavished  on  many 
certainly  not  very  distinguished  men,  no  dignity, 
not  even  a  barren  honour,  as  far  as  I  know,  was 
ever  bestowed  on  the  author  of  the  "Christian  Year" 
and  the  editor  of  Hooker.  I  cannot  but  think  that 
this  is  not  to  the  credit  of  those  who  for  nearly  fifty 
years  have  had  the  disposal  of  those  dignities  and 
honours.  But  Keble  is  not  the  first  nor  the  only 
eminent  man  whose  claims  to  honour  have  only 
been  recognized  when  they  have  ceased  to  be 
conscious  of  such  honours. 

But  to  pass  from  this  now,  perhaps,  rather 
irrelevant  consideration,  I  am  one,  and  must  have 
been  known  to  be  one,  of  the  few  surviving  con- 
temporaries of  Keble  at  Oxford.  We  were  at 
one  time  on  terms  of  great  intimacy.  I  have 
letters  of  his  expressing  very  friendly  affection.* 
I  remember  well  that  he  waived  his  claim  to  the 
Professorship  of  Poetry,  though  senior  in  standing, 
in  my  favour,  and  was  content  to  be  my  successor  in 
that  office.t  In  a  remarkable  writing,  which  your 
Grace  no  doubt,  like  the  rest  of  the  world,  has  read, 
and  read  with  great  interest,  my  name  was  associated 

*  I  have  been  unable  to  find  these  letters.     Not  much  of  my 
father's  correspondence  has  survived, 
t  Cf.  "  Memoir  of  the  Rev.  John  Keble,"  Coleridge,  p.  206. 


viii.]  THE   KEBLE    MEMORIAL  217 

in  a  very  singular  manner  with  that  of  Keble.*  I 
was  among  the  few  who  read  the  "  Christian  Year"  in 
MS.,  and  I  believe  the  first  who  in  a  popular  journal 
passed  my  judgment,  briefly  indeed,  on  its  extra- 
ordinary excellence.  The  circumstances  of  our  lives, 
placed  at  some  distance  from  each  other,  and  no 
doubt  divergence  of  opinion,  severed  us  as  regarded 
personal  intercourse ;  but  for  my  part  I  never  ceased 
to  look  up  to  Keble  with  the  greatest  respect,  and  I 
may  say  reverence,  for  the  purity,  loftiness,  and 
single-mindedness  of  his  character. 

I  rejoiced  to  hear  that  some  tribute  to  his  memory 
was  in  contemplation  ;  and  no  one  was  more  eager 
to  take  part  in  the  movement,  no  one  would  have 
more  heartily  or  readily  obeyed  a  summons  for  that 
purpose,  than  myself. 

But  on  that  occasion  my  name  was  not  only 
overlooked,  but,  as  I  have  been  credibly  informed, 
having  been  suggested,  was  deliberately  and  inten- 
tionally excluded.  I  will  not  affect  any  false 
modesty,  but  boldly  say,  that,  as  a  man  of  letters 
not  without  distinction,  as  one  who  in  former  years 
obtained  some  fame  for  poetry  (fame  which  no  one 
recognized  more  fully  than  Keble),  for  religious 
poetry,  I  cannot  but  think  that  my  name  might 
have  had  more  weight,  at  least  with  the  public  in 
general,  than  those  of  some  whose  title  to  take  the 
lead  in  such  a  movement  it  would  be  difficult  to 
explain, — my  name  as  well  as  other  names  of  men 
who  in  writings  of  very  widespread  popularity  and 
influence  have  repeatedly,  emphatically,  and  with 
the  best  qualifications  for  judgment  borne  their 
testimony  to  Keble's  poetic  power. 

I  do  not  pretend  to  disguise  my  personal  feelings 
in  this  matter;  but,  believe  me,  my  Lord  Archbishop, 
what  I  chiefly  regret,  and  most  deeply  regret,  is 
that  one  of  those  rare  occasions  should  have  been 

*  Cf  "Apologia  pro  Vita  Sua,"  John  Henry  Newman,  p.  76. 


2l8  A   LOST   OPPORTUNITY  [CHAP. 

allowed  to  pass  by  when  the  whole  Church  of 
England  with  unwonted  unison  might  have  concurred 
in  one  outburst  of  respect  and  reverence  for  the 
author  of  the  ''Christian  Year" — not  the  clergy 
only  (and  among  them  it  would  have  included  every 
shade  of  opinion),  but  all  classes  of  religious  men  ; 
and  this  not  in  England  only,  but  in  the  United 
States,  in  the  Colonies,  wherever  God  is  loyally 
worshipped  in  the  language  of  England  and  in  the 
spirit  of  the  religion  of  Christ. 

Even  as  to  the  form  in  which  it  might  be  thought 
fit  that  the  memorial  should  appear  I  think  there 
would  have  been  no  difficulty.  I  for  one  should 
certainly  have  acquiesced  in  any  expression  of 
general  feeling  on  the  subject.  I  cannot  but  honestly 
think  that  for  the  attainment  of  this  object  a  less 
narrow  mode  of  action  would  have  been  more  likely 
to  meet  with  success. 

I  trust  that  in  what  I  have  written  there  is  no 
word  inconsistent  with  the  sincere  respect  which  I 
entertain  for  your  Grace  as  Primate,  or,  permit 
me  to  add,  with  the  friendship  which  has  subsisted 
between  us  for  nearly  fifty  years. 
I  have  the  honour  to  be 

Ever  your  Grace's  faithful  servant, 

H.    H.    MlLMAN. 

The  Archbishop's  answer  to  this  remonstrance, 
together  with  a  concluding  letter  from  my  father, 
are  too  interesting  to  be  omitted,  and  are  a  further 
proof  of  the  sincere  friendship  which,  dating  from 
old  Oxford  days,  still  subsisted  between  them. 

ADDINGTON  PARK,  CROYDON, 
July  2Qth,  1866. 

MY  DEAR  DEAN, — 

I  sincerely  hope  you  will  not  imagine  that 
my  silence  is   owing    to   any  offence   that   I    have 


viii.]  THE   ARCHBISHOP'S   REPLY  219 

taken  at  your  letter  of  the  Qth  inst.  My  delay  in 
answering  it  has,  I  assure  you,  resulted  solely  from 
the  great  pressure  of  business  I  had  during  the  ten 
days  before  I  left  London.  Let  me  also  assure  you 
that  I  never  feel  displeased  by  any  remonstrance 
addressed  to  me,  either  as  a  public  officer  or  as 
a  private  individual,  provided  it  be  addressed  to 
me  in  the  former  character  in  respectful  terms, 
and  in  the  latter  with  frankness  and  courtesy. 
In  neither  of  these  respects  have  I  anything  to 
complain  of  in  your  recent  communication. 

Your  strictures  upon  the  conduct  of  those  who 
had  ecclesiastical  patronage  at  their  disposal,  and 
yet  never  bestowed  any  on  our  excellent  friend 
John  Keble,  happily  do  not  affect  myself.  I  was 
for  twenty  years  Bishop  of  Ripon,  and  I  never  had 
but  one  living  at  my  disposal  above  the  value  of 
^300  a  year.  During  the  short  time  that  I  held 
the  Sees  of  Durham  and  York  scarcely  a  vacancy 
occurred,  while  preferment  fell  abundantly  to  my 
two  successors  in  those  sees  very  recently  after 
their  appointment.  It  was  not  till  I  became 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  after  an  episcopacy 
of  a  quarter  of  a  century,  that  I  was  able  to 
reward  my  own  chaplains,  who  had  the  first  claim 
upon  me. 

As  to  the  Keble  Memorial,  in  justice  to  myself 
I  must  explain  to  you  that  I  am  in  no  way  respon- 
sible for  those  who  were  or  were  not  invited  to 
the  meeting  at  Lambeth  Palace.  A  committee  had 
been  formed  at  Oxford  without  my  knowledge  or 
co-operation,  and  I  was  simply  asked  to  allow  the 
meeting  to  be  held  under  my  roof,  in  order  that 
those  who  had  been  asked  by  the  committee  to 
attend  it  might  discuss  the  scheme  prepared  by 
them.  As  regards  the  exact  form  of  memorial  then 
agreed  upon,  I  can  only  say  that  it  was  shown 
to  be  one  so  entirely  in  accordance  with  the  views 


220  FORM   OF   THE   MEMORIAL  [CHAP, 

of  John   Keble  himself,   that  it  would  have    been 
impossible  to  carry  a  proposal  for  any  other. 

You  are  probably  aware  that  some  time  before 
his  death  there  was  a  scheme  discussed  by  many 
of  the  leading  men  in  Oxford  for  founding  a  hall 
or  college  very  similar  to  that  which  is  now  pro- 
posed in  honour  of  John  Keble;  and  this  idea  was 
adopted  as  being  more  likely  than  any  other  to 
carry  out  his  well-known  views  in  this  direction. 
I  am  quite  sure  that  you  will  have  candour  enough 
to  look  at  the  matter  from  another  point  of  view 
than  your  own.  Supposing  such  a  form  of  memorial 
to  have  been  adopted  as  would  have  embraced 
among  its  supporters  all  who  admired  John  Keble 
as  a  poet,  but  not  as  a  Christian  poet,  would  it 
not  have  alienated  many  of  those  who  knew  him 
most  intimately  in  his  later  years,  because  they 
regarded  it  as  a  tribute  to  his  memory  which  they 
knew  would  have  been  very  uncongenial  to  his 
feelings. 

That  your  feelings  should  have  been  wounded 
by  any  incident  that  has  occurred  in  these  pro- 
ceedings is  indeed  a  source  of  very  deep  regret 
to  me ;  but  in  truth,  as  you  will  perceive  from 
what  I  have  already  said,  I  do  not  consider  myself 
responsible  for  any  act  which  may  have  caused  you 
pain,  and  I  heartily  concur  with  you  in  the  hope 
that  this  passage  in  our  lives  may  in  no  way 
mar  that  friendly  intercourse  which  has  subsisted 
between  us  since  our  Oxford  days. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Dean, 

Yours  very  faithfully, 

G.  T.  CANTUAR. 

WOODLANDS,  WINDLESHAM, 
July  2$rd,  1866. 

MY  DEAR  LORD  ARCHBISHOP, — 

I  am  truly  grateful  for  the  courteous  and 
friendly  reply  of  your  Grace  to  my  letter  relating 


VIIL]  NEGLECT   OF   KEBLE  221 

to  the  Keble  Memorial.  That  letter,  purporting  to 
be  an  answer  to  a  letter  which  bore  your  signature, 
in  strictness  perhaps  was  not  entitled  to  a  reply. 
I  am  therefore  better  pleased  to  have  received 
one  so  entirely  in  harmony  with  your  invariable 
kindness  and  high  feeling,  and  so  worthy  of  your 
exalted  position. 

On  one  point  I  must  revert  to  my  letter.  If 
I  had  thought  that  the  extraordinary  neglect  of 
Keble  as  to  the  honours  and  dignities  of  the  Church 
could  by  the  most  remote  possibility  apply  to  your 
Grace,  be  assured  that  I  should  not  have  written 
a  word  on  the  subject.  Such  a  misapprehension 
seemed  to  me  so  inconceivable,  that  I  had  no  hesi- 
tation in  expressing  what  it  was  natural  to  feel, 
when,  looking  back  on  our  Oxford  contemporaries, 
and  their  titles  to  distinction  compared  with  their 
advancement  and  honours  (I  would  include  myself 
among  these),  I  saw  Keble  alone  for  above  fifty 
years  no  more  than  a  country  clergyman,  in  a 
living,  I  believe,  conferred  on  him  by  private 
friendship  and  esteem — not  even  a  barren  honour 
attached  to  his  name.  But  for  this  no  one  could 
be  less  answerable  than  your  Grace.  I  would  only 
add  that  I  trust  you  may  live  many  years,  and  have 
the  disposal  of  much  Church  preferment,  in  full 
and  sincere  confidence  that  such  preferment  will  be 
awarded  most  conscientiously  and  to  the  utmost  of 
your  judgment,  to  the  advantage  and  honour  of  the 
Church. 

As  to  the  transaction  itself,  nothing  can  be  more 
entirely  satisfactory  than  the  explanation  which  you 
have  had  the  kindness  to  make  as  regards  your 
personal  share  in  it.  But  I  cannot  disguise  my 
regret  that  the  persons  actively  concerned,  not  only 
have  let  pass  the  golden  opportunity  of  bringing 
all  parties  in  the  Church  (I  hate  the  word  "  parties  ") 
into  a  rare  and  most  desirable  unison  on  one 


222     A  MEMORIAL  IN  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY   [CHAP. 

great  subject  of  our  common  sympathies,  but  have 
allowed  that  which  might  have  been  a  bond  of 
wide  and  general  union  to  degenerate  into  what 
is  thought  by  many  a  narrow  and  exclusive  and 
party  movement. 

Your  Grace  has  no  doubt  heard  that  a  memorial 
has  been  prepared,  exclusively  signed  by  laymen, 
requesting  permission  to  erect  some  monumental 
tribute  in  Westminster  Abbey  to  the  author  of  the 
"  Christian  Year."  It  has  obtained  many  signatures 
of  men  in  the  highest  rank  and  position.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Dean  will  accede  to  this 
request ;  and  although  it  was  thought  right  to  con- 
fine the  signatures  to  the  memorial  to  the  laity,  the 
subscriptions  of  the  clergy  will  not  be  declined. 
Those,  therefore,  who  like  myself  are  anxious  to 
show  their  veneration  and  affection  for  the  memory 
of  Keble  will  have  an  opportunity  of  doing 
so,  and  of  gratifying  their  feelings  towards  the 
Church's  poet. 

Believe  me,  with  the  warmest  respect  and  regard, 
Ever  your  Grace's  faithful  servant  and  friend, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

My  father  and  Keble  can  but  rarely  have  met  in 
later  years  ;  but  I  remember  once  to  have  seen  them 
in  company,  I  think  in  1854.  We  were  at  the 
time  staying  with  Archdeacon  Froude  at  Dartington, 
when  Keble,  who  was  also  in  the  neighbourhood, 
drove  over  to  meet  the  Dean.  No  one  could 
fail  to  be  struck  by  the  friendly,  even  affectionate, 
greetings  which  were  interchanged  between  them, 
manifest  proofs  of  an  old  and  reciprocal  regard 
and  esteem  which  neither  absence  nor  divergence 
of  opinion  had  had  power  to  obliterate. 


222     A  MEMORIAL  IN  WESTMINSTER  ABBT 

great  subject  of  our  common  sympathies,  but  have 
allowed  that  which  might  have  been  a  bond  of 
wide  and  general  union  to  degenerate  into  "what 
is  thought  by  many  a  narrow  and  exclusive  and 
party  moverm 

Your  (  t  memorial 

has  lay  men  > 

'•  •  'mental 

to  the  au<  the 

d  many  signatures 

ink  and  position.     There 

can  be  no  doubt  that  the  Dean  will  accede  to  this 
request ;  and  although  it  was  thought  right  to  con- 
fine the  signatures  to  the  memorial  to  the  laity,  the 
subscriptions  of  the  clergy  will  not  be  declined. 
Those,  therefore,  who  like  myself  are  anxious  to 
show  their  veneration  and  affection  for  the  memory 
of  Keble  will  have  an  opportunity  of  doing 
so,  rds  jthe 

Chi] 

nd  regard, 
riend, 


•  m 

later  years  ;  but  I  rememb  seen  them 

in  company,  I  think  in  1854.  We  were  at  the 
time  -staying  with  Archdeacon  Froude  at  Dartington, 
when  Keble,  who  was  also  in  the  neighbourhood, 
drove  over  to  meet  the  Dean.  No  one  could 
fail  to  be  struck  by  the  friendly,  even  affectionate, 
greetings  which  were  interchanged  between  them, 
manifest  proofs  of  an  old  and  reciprocal  regard 
and  esteem  which  neither  absence  nor  divergence 
of  opinion  had  had  power  to  obliterate. 


ix.]  "LATIN   CHRISTIANITY"  223 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"History  of  Latin  Christianity" — Appreciation  of  by  Dean  Stanley 
— Dean  Church — Mr.  Froude — American  Writers — St.  Paul's — 
Funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington — Special  Evening  Services 
— Letter  to  the  Archbishop  on  Revision  of  Lectionary — Views 
on  the  Decoration  of  the  Cathedral. 

THE  "  History  of  Latin  Christianity,  including 
that  of  the  Popes  to  the  Pontificate  of 
Nicholas  V.,"  my  father's  opus  magnum,  has  been 
already  more  than  once  referred  to.  It  was  com- 
pleted during  the  earlier  years  of  his  residence  at 
St.  Paul's,  and  was  published,  the  first  three  volumes 
in  1854,  the  remaining  three,  in  accordance  with 
his  publisher,  Mr.  Murray's,  advice,  in  the  following 
year.  It  would  be  as  presumptuous  to  praise  as 
it  would  be  unbecoming  in  me,  even  if  I  were 
competent,  to  attempt  any  critical  appreciation  of 
this  book.  It  was  universally  and  immediately 
recognized  as  a  work  of  the  very  highest  order — 
a  work  which,  as  was  more  than  once  observed, 
went  far  to  do  away  with  the  reproach  which  had 
too  long  rested  upon  English  literature  of  having 
produced  no  ecclesiastical  history,  save  Gibbon's, 
worthy  of  the  name. 

From     that     moment — the     publication     of    the 


224          DEAN   STANLEY   AND    MR.    FROUDE      [CHAP. 

"History  of  Latin  Christianity"  [if  I  may  once 
more  use  the  words  of  Dean  Stanley] — the  triumph 
was  complete.  From  that  moment — from  the  un- 
questionable obligation  under  which  he  thus  placed 
the  whole  theological  world  of  England — from  the 
duty  which  he  thus  imposed  upon  it  of  reading 
an  indispensable  and  inestimable  book — he  occupied 
a  position,  not  only  unassailable,  but  almost  un- 
assailed.  The  "  History  of  Christianity  under  the 
Empire,"  with  its  gorgeous  style,  its  wide  learning 
and  lucid  argument,  filled  a  gap  which  had  been 
hitherto  only  supplied  by  the  meagre  narratives  of 
Mosheim  and  Milner,  or  by  the  ill-adapted  trans- 
lations of  Neander  and  Gieseler.  And  now  another 
gap,  still  vaster,  was  supplied  by  what  was,  in 
fact,  a  complete  epic  and  philosophy  of  mediaeval 
Christendom. 

Mr.   Froude  writes  to  my  father  as  follows  : — 

I  have  finished  your  first  volume,  and  I  am  now 
busy  with  the  second.  The  interest  grows  steadily, 
but  I  am  lost  in  wonder  at  the  enormous  labour 
which  the  book  must  have  cost  you.  The  Mahomet 
chapter  is  the  best  thing  that  1  have  ever  read 
on  that  subject.  The  perpetual  dirt  of  Gibbon  is 
so  disagreeable,  and  the  impossibility  of  being 
serious,  that,  brilliant  as  his  account  is,  it  does  not 
satisfy,  and  scarcely  commands  admiration.  Ockley 
was  always  my  favourite  work  on  Mahometanism. 

And  again,  after  the  completion  of  the  publi- 
cation : — 

Last  night  I  finished  your  sixth  volume.  What 
can  I  say,  except  that  you  have  written  the  finest 
historical  work  in  the  English  language  ?  The 
interest  grows  from,  perhaps  commences  with,  the 


ix.]  DEAN   CHURCH  225 

four  last  volumes.  The  first  two,  covering  a  vast 
period  comparatively  little  known,  are  less  distinct, 
and  fail  so  powerfully  to  hold  the  attention.  But 
what  a  labour  of  intellect  to  have  shifted  so  often 
your  point  of  vision — to  have  looked  at  every 
event,  at  every  character,  on  all  sides,  before  you 
set  yourself  to  draw  it !  Calmness,  impartiality,  a 
belief,  fixed  as  the  Creed,  that  the  history  of  man, 
judged  as  a  whole,  is  the  history  of  his  better 
nature  struggling  against  his  lower,  and  struggling 
not  altogether  unsuccessfully ;  that  in  a  divinely 
governed  world  no  systems  of  faith  or  policy  have 
taken  enduring  and  effective  hold  upon  mankind 
unless  the  truth  in  them  has  been  greater  than  the 
falsehood, — these  are  the  essentials  of  a  great 
writer ;  and  these,  more  than  any  one  who  as  yet 
has  taken  such  subjects  in  hand,  you  possess.  The 
"  History  of  Christianity"  did  not  prepare  me  for 
the  "  History  of  Latin  Christianity."  In  the  first  I 
seemed  to  see  chiefly  the  philosopher,  in  the  second 
the  man. 

But  perhaps  a  still  stronger  testimony  to  the 
general  sense  of  Dean  Milman's  high  qualifications 
as  the  historian  of  Latin  Christianity,  because,  so 
to  say,  disinterested  and  indirect,  is  given  by  a 
successor  in  the  Deanery,  Dr.  Church,  between 
whom  and  my  father,  though  they  no  doubt 
approached  the  consideration  of  purely  ecclesiastical 
questions  from  very  different  standpoints,  there 
was  the  attraction  and  sympathy  which  are  en- 
gendered by  an  equal  love  of  justice,  of  charity, 
of  moderation — by  a  community  of  scholarly  tastes 
and  refinement.  No  one  then  was  more  alive 
than  Dean  Church  to  the  merits  of  the  "  History 


226          DEAN   MILMAN'S   RARE   QUALITIES       [CHAP. 

of  Latin  Christianity "  in  its  historical  objective 
aspect,  though  from  the  theological  and  subjective 
his  admiration  might  have  been  less  unreserved, 
and  his  generous  appreciation  is  only  heightened 
by  the  expression  of  a  significant  regret  that  Dean 
Milman's  great  and  rare  qualities  had  not  been 
devoted  to,  or  extended  so  as  to  embrace,  the 
later  history  of  the  Church. 

Dean  Milman's  great  and  rare  qualities  [he  says  *] 
were  even  perhaps  more  suited  for  the  later  history 
of  the  Church  than  for  the  earlier  ;  and  though  we 
should  be  sorry  to  be  without  much  of  what  he  has 
done  for  the  Middle  Ages,  we  are  not  sure  that 
we  would  not  exchange  it  for  the  same  amount 
of  work  on  the  time  from  the  fifteenth  to  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  English  "  History  of  the 
Reformation "  has  yet  to  be  written.  .  .  .  Dean 
Milman's  imagination  and  insight,  his  fearless 
courage,  and  his  unusual  combination  of  the 
strongest  feelings  about  right  and  wrong  with  the 
largest  equity,  would  have  enabled  him  to  handle 
this  perplexed  and  difficult  history  in  a  manner 
in  which  no  English  writer  has  yet  treated  it. 
We  do  not  say  that  he  could  be  expected  to  be 
entirely  successful.  He  wanted — what  many  of 
our  most  eminent  teachers  of  the  present  day  want — 
a  due  appreciation  of  the  reality  and  depth  of 
those  eternal  problems  of  thought  and  feeling  which 
have  made  theology.  .  .  . 

A  man  must  be  able  to  do  both  [give,  that  is,  an 
account  not  only  of  what  is  outward  in  the  fortunes 
and  conduct  of  a  religious  body,  but  of  those  in- 
ward and  spiritual  ideas  and  efforts  which  are  its 

*  "  Occasional  Papers,"  i.  156-8,  in  a  review  of  a  volume  of 
essays  published  after  Dean  Milman's  death,  "  Savonarola,  Erasmus, 
and  other  Essays." 


ix.]  EX   CATHEDRA   CRITICISM  227 

soul  and  life]  before  the  history  of  that  great  crisis 
in  the  fortunes  of  the  world  is  duly  set  forth ;  but  to 
have  done  the  first  as  Dean  Milman  would  have  done 
it — so  loftily,  so  intelligently,  so  fearlessly,  so  justly — 
would  have  given  us  a  book  which  for  the  present 
we  want. 


Dr.  Herford,  in  one  of  those  able  but  not  altogether 
satisfying  handbooks  in  which  the  literature  of  a 
period  is  appraised,  and  writers  great  and  small  are 
consigned  with  infallibility,  plusquam  papale,  to  the 
several  niches  which  they  are  to  occupy  in  the  Temple 
of  Fame,  has  indeed  said  that  Milman — 

in  spite  of  his  fine  sympathetic  insight,  accomplished 
scholarship,  and  wide  and  deep  learning,  belongs 
to  the  class,  so  frequent  in  the  history  of  English 
culture,  of  those  who  but  half  apprehend  the  meaning 
and  tendency  of  their  own  work. 

Ex  cathedra  criticisms  of  this  kind  are  no  doubt 
difficult  to  meet,  and  seem,  moreover,  to  imply 
some  confusion  between  the  respective  provinces  of 
the  theologian  and  of  the  historian.  The  author  of 
"  Latin  Christianity  "  would  have  been  too  modest  to 
predicate  the  ultimate  consequences  of  any  work  of 
his,  or  the  extreme  inferences  which  might  possibly 
be  drawn  from  it.  Nor  did  he  pretend  to  foretell 
the  future  of  Christianity  :  though  believing  in  its 
perpetuity,  he  believed — 

that  by  some  providential  law  it  must  adapt  itself 
in  its  future,  as  it  had  adapted  itself  with  such 
wonderful  versatility  in  the  past,  but  with  a  faithful 


228      LATIN   AND   TEUTONIC   CHRISTIANITY  [CHAP. 

conservation  of  its  inner  vital  spirit,  to  all  vicissi- 
tudes and  phases  of  man's  social,  moral,  intellectual 
being. 

Thus,  after  a  pregnant  summary  of  the  distinctive 
tendencies  and  characteristics  of  Latin  as  contrasted 
with  Teutonic  Christianity,  the  writer  continues  : — 

How  far  Teutonic  Christianity  may  in  some  parts 
already  have  gone  almost  or  absolutely  beyond  the 
pale  of  Christianity,  how  far  it  may  have  lost  itself 
in  its  unrebuked  wanderings,  posterity  only  will 
know.  What  distinctness  of  conception,  what  pre- 
cision of  language,  may  be  indispensable  to  true 
faith  ;  what  part  of  the  ancient  dogmatic  system  may 
be  allowed  silently  to  fall  into  disuse,  as  at  least 
superfluous,  and  as  beyond  the  proper  range  of 
human  thought  and  human  language  ;  how  far  the 
sacred  records  may,  without  real  peril  to  their  truth, 
be  subjected  to  closer  investigation  ;  to  what  wider 
interpretation,  especially  of  the  Semitic  portion,  those 
records  may  submit,  and  wisely  submit,  in  order  to 
harmonize  them  with  the  irrefutable  conclusions  of 
science ;  how  far  the  Eastern  veil  of  allegory  which 
hangs  over  their  truth  may  be  lifted  or  torn  away  to 
show  their  unshadowed  essence  ;  how  far  the  poetic 
vehicle  through  which  truth  is  conveyed  may  be 
gently  severed  from  the  truth, — all  this  must  be  left 
to  the  future  historian  of  our  religion. 

l(  Such  fine  reserve  and  noble  reticence  "  appears 
to  me  to  be  ill  characterized  as  Halbheit,  and  there 
was  assuredly  no  half-heartedness  in  the  ultimate 
expressions  of  the  author's  own  belief  which  form 
the  concluding  sentences  of  the  work  to  which  he 
had  devoted  the  best  years  of  his  life  : — 


ix.]  THE   AUTHOR'S   BELIEF  229 

As  it  is  my  own  confident  belief  that  the  words  of 
Christ,  and  His  words  alone  (the  primal  indefeasible 
truths  of  Christianity),  shall  not  pass  away,  so  I 
cannot  presume  to  say  that  men  may  not  attain  to 
a  clearer,  at  the  same  time  more  full,  comprehensive, 
and  balanced  sense  of  those  words,  than  has  as  yet 
been  generally  received  in  the  Christian  world.  As 
all  else  is  transient  and  mutable,  these  only  eternal 
and  universal,  assuredly,  whatever  light  may  be 
thrown  on  the  mental  constitution  of  man,  even  on 
the  constitution  of  nature,  and  the  laws  which  govern 
the  world,  will  be  concentered  so  as  to  give  a  more 
penetrating  vision  of  those  undying  truths.  Teutonic 
Christianity  (and  this  seems  to  be  its  mission  and 
privilege),  however  nearly  in  its  more  perfect  form 
it  may  already  have  approximated,  may  approximate 
still  more  closely  to  the  absolute  and  perfect  faith  of 
Christ.  It  may  discover  and  establish  the  sublime 
unison  of  religion  and  reason  ;  keep  in  tone  the 
triple-chorded  harmony  of  faith,  holiness,  and  charity  ; 
assert  its  own  full  freedom,  know  the  bounds  of  that 
freedom,  respect  the  freedom  of  others.  Christianity 
may  yet  have  to  exercise  a  far  wider,  even  if 
more  silent  and  untraceable,  influence,  through  its 
primary  all-pervading  principles,  on  the  civilization 
of  mankind.* 

The  "  History  of  Latin  Christianity  "  has  taken 
rank  as  one  of  the  standard  works  of  English 
literature ;  and  I  do  not  think  that  any  one  who 
is  acquainted  with  the  historical  and  ecclesiastical 
writings  of  the  last  forty  years  can  fail  to  see  the 
influence  that  it  has  exercised  upon  them,  nor  the 
vast  mine  of  information  which  it  has  been  to 

*  For  this  and  the  two  previous  quotations  see  "  Latin  Christianity," 
Book  XIV.,  cap.  10. 


230  AMERICAN   RECOGNITION  [CHAP. 

labourers  in  portions  of  the  same  field.  In  the 
schools  of  the  Universities  it  is  a  recognized  text- 
book ;  in  the  United  States,  among  a  kindred  people, 
it  has  an  equally  established  position.  A  well-known 
American  author,  Mr.  H.  C.  Lea,  writes  from 
Philadelphia  in  1861  :  — 

The  republication  of  your  work  in  this  country 
has  elicited  a  cordiality  of  appreciative  criticism  more 
unanimous  than  often  falls  to  the  lot  of  works  so 
elevated  in  character,  and  so  far  removed  from  the 
passions  and  struggles  of  the  day.  There  can  be 
little  doubt  that  it  will  maintain  the  position  it 
deserves  as  the  leading  authority  on  its  interesting 
subject  wherever  the  English  language  is  spoken. 

And  Mr.  Bancroft,  when  forwarding  a  copy  of  the 
American  reprint  of  "  Latin  Christianity,"  adds  : — 

The  success  of  the  book,  if  the  word  "  success" 
deserves  to  be  used  of  an  unauthorized  edition,  has 
been  great,  and  for  the  times  wonderful.  The  first 
edition  of  seven  hundred  copies  was  bought  imme- 
diately, and  the  second  is  reported  as  more  than  half 
sold ;  and  this  at  a  time  when  the  book  trade  has 
been,  and  continues  to  be,  in  a  state  of  unexampled 
depression  such  as  you  can  hardly  form  an  idea  of. 
But  we  Americans  of  the  North  are  a  grave,  sober, 
industrious  people,  more  given  to  reading  good 
books  than  any  nation  I  ever  saw  ;  and  in  my  time 
I  have  lived  under  all  sorts  of  governments,  from 
the  monarchy  of  Prussia  to  that  of  the  Roman  Pontiff 
and  the  Bourbon  King  of  Naples. 

So  great,  indeed,  was  the  demand  for  the  book 
in  the  United  States  that  the  whole  work  was 


ix.]  STEREOTYPED   EDITION  231 

stereotyped  by  an  enterprising  American  publisher. 
The  outbreak  shortly  afterwards  of  the  Civil  War 
for  a  time,  however,  absorbing  every  other  interest, 
and  inflicting  a  deadly  check  on  the  publishing  and 
other  trades,  the  plates  of  this  edition  were  offered 
to  Mr.  Murray,  as  appears  in  the  next  letter  : — 

LANSDOWNE  VILLA,  RICHMOND, 
September  2nd,  1864. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  LOUISA  STANLEY, — 

You  may  suppose  that  I  was  delighted  to 
receive  Arthur's  [Stanley]  letter,  to  me  so  full  of 
special  interest.  I  must  either  make  out  for  myself 
or  persuade  Arthur  to  make  out  for  me  a  note  * 
for  the  new  edition  of  "  Latin  Christianity."  With 
this  view,  my  patient,  most  kind,  and  useful  wife 
has  transcribed  the  passage  for  me — my  son  and 
I  having  last  night  been  the  Young  and  Champollion 
of  Arthur's  hieroglyphics.  I  think  that  we  have 
made  out  the  whole,  even  the  two  words  which 
puzzled  your  sagacity  and  familiarity  with  his  ups 
and  downs.  I  presume  that  the  pilgrims  are  on 
the  way  southward,  and  have  not  yet  visited  the 
chief  object  of  the  tour,  Monte  Casino.  I  shall  be 
able,  I  trust,  to  insert  the  note,  as  at  present  my 
reprint  is  rather  in  abeyance.  The  Americans  had 
stereotyped  the  book,  and,  taken  with  the  form  and 
typography,  Murray  and  I  agreed  to  buy  the  plates, 
which  would  enable  us  to  publish  the  book  at  a 
less  costly  price.  But  on  close  investigation  we 
find  many  inconveniences  and  some  peculiarities  of 
spelling,  which  make  us  hesitate  unless  these  faults 
can  be  corrected.  In  the  meantime  accept  my 
most  grateful  thanks  for  the  letter,  which  I  enclose 

*  This  refers  to  a  description  of  Canossa,  the  ancestral  fortress 
of  the  Countess  Matilda,  the  scene  of  the  famous  submission 
of  the  Emperor  Henry  IV.  to  Pope  Gregory  VII.  See  "  Latin 
Christianity,"  Book  VII.,  cap.  2. 


232  ADMISSION   TO   ST.   PAUL'S  [CHAP. 

with  the  least  delay  possible.  I  shall  be  glad  to 
hear  of  the  traveller's  return,  which,  1  presume, 
cannot  be  long  expected,  as  Arthur's  presence  will 
be  wanted  at  Oxford. 

We  grieve  that  you  can  give  us  no  more  cheerful 
account  of  the  state  of  things  at  Holmwood.  I  fear 
that  it  must  be  sadly  trying  to  you  and  your  sister. 
But  the  consciousness  that  you  are  discharging  a 
duty — a  duty  of  veneration  and  love — must  be,  and 
I  am  confident  is,  your  support.  We  leave  this 
charming  place  on  Saturday ;  and  after  passing  a 
day  in  London,  think  of  about  a  fortnight  at 
Weymouth,  where  I  have  not  been  for  near  sixty 
years.  The  last  and  only  time  I  have  ever  visited 
that  place  was  when  my  father  was  in  attendance 
on  good  old  George  III.  :  good,  pace  your  neigh- 
bour, John  Phillimore,  the  author  of  the  most 
audacious  book  I  ever  read.  Our  kindest  and  most 
affectionate  remembrances  to  my  dear  old  friend 
my  Lady,  as  well  as  to  your  sisters  :  love  to  you 
from  us  both. 

Ever  your  most  sincere  friend, 

H.   H.  MILMAN. 

In  a  letter  to  my  father  notifying  the  Queen's 
approval  of  his  appointment  to  the  Deanery  of 
St.  Paul's,  Lord  John  Russell  expressed  his  hope 
that — 

he  would  be  prepared  to  carry  out  the  measures  of 
reform  and  improvement  which  are  needed  in  that 
Cathedral,  and  that  he  would  be  able  to  regulate 
the  admission  of  the  public  in  a  manner  more  satis- 
factory than  the  present  mode,  and  at  the  same  time 
provide  for  the  decent  respect  due  to  a  place  of 
worship. 

This    refers    more   especially,    no   doubt,   to    the 


ix.]  OLD   ABUSES  233 

unseemly  custom  which  had  been  for  many  years  in 
operation  of  levying  a  charge  of  twopence  on  every 
person  entering  the  Cathedral  at  any  other  time 
than  when  services  were  actually  going  on.  St.  Paul's 
was  certainly  not  the  only  church  where  similar 
objectionable  customs  prevailed  ;  but  it  was  more  in 
evidence,  and  the  twopenny  payment  had  been  the 
object,  and  properly  the  object,  of  unceasing  attack 
in  verse  as  well  as  prose.  But  the  abolition  of 
an  abuse  is  more  difficult  than  its  creation.  Vergers 
and  others  had  vested  interests  in  the  fund  thereby 
created,  and  some  little  time  was  required  before 
arrangements  could  be  made  and  the  necessary 
funds  be  provided  for  their  compensation.  As  soon 
as  these  could  be  completed,  the  whole  area  of  the 
Cathedral  was  thrown  and  has  since  remained  open. 
Of  incidents  in  connection  with  my  father's 
tenure  of  the  Deanery  one  of  the  earliest  and  un- 
doubtedly the  most  interesting  was  the  funeral  of 
the  Duke  of  Wellington  on  November  i8th,  1852  ; 
and  allusion  has  already  been  made  (ante,  p.  179) 
to  the  labour  and  anxiety  which  were  thrown  upon 
the  Dean  in  making  the  necessary  arrangements 
with  all  the  various  and  conflicting  authorities  who 
had  the  ordering  of  the  ceremony.  The  state  of 
confusion  in  the  Cathedral  on  the  morning  of  the 
funeral  is  referred  to  in  the  "  Annals  of  St.  Paul's  "  ; 
and  as  this  work  is  out  of  print,  it  may  be  interesting 
to  reproduce  my  father's  own  account  of  the  funeral, 
in  itself  a  great  historic  event.  It  was  too,  as  he 
says,  somewhat  remarkable  that  he  who  as  an 


234    THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON'S  FUNERAL  [CHAP, 

"undistinguished  boy  witnessed  the  burial  of  Lord 
Nelson  should  officiate  as  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  at  the 
funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington." 

The  funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  lives  in 
the  memory  of  the  present  generation.  Nothing 
could  be  more  impressive  than  the  sad,  silent  rever- 
ence of  the  whole  people  of  London,  of  all  orders 
and  classes,  as  the  procession  passed  through  the 
streets.  But  this  concerns  not  St.  Paul's.  In  the 
Cathedral  time  had  not  been  allowed  to  carry  out 
the  designs  as  proposed  by  the  authorities.  The 
interior  was  to  have  been  entirely  dark,  except  from 
artificial  light,  lines  of  which  were  to  trace  out  all 
the  lines  of  the  architecture.  This  was  thought  far 
more  impressive  than  the  dull,  dubious  light  of  a 
November  day.  But  the  daylight  was,  from  haste, 
but  imperfectly  excluded,  and  the  solemn  effect  of 
illuminating  the  whole  building,  with  every  arch, 
and  the  dome  in  its  majestic  circle,  was  in  some  degree 
marred.  So  ill,  indeed,  had  the  time  been  measured, 
that  on  the  morning  of  the  funeral  hundreds  of 
workmen  had  to  be  dismissed  and  discharged  from 
the  Cathedral.  Yet  the  scene  under  the  dome  was 
in  the  highest  degree  imposing.  The  two  Houses 
of  Parliament  assembled  in  full  numbers, — on  the 
north  side  of  the  area  the  House  of  Commons  ; 
behind  these,  filling  up  the  north  transept,  the  civic 
authorities,  the  City  companies,  and  the  members  of 
the  Corporation  ;  on  the  south  side  of  the  area  the 
Peers  ;  behind  them  the  clergy  of  the  Cathedral  and 
their  friends.  The  foreign  ambassadors  sat  on  seats 
extending  to  the  organ -gallery.  Every  arcade, 
every  available  space,  was  crowded  ;  from  twelve 
to  fifteen  thousand  persons  (it  was  difficult  closely 
to  calculate j  were  present.  The  body  was  received 
by  the  Bisnop  and  the  Dean  and  the  clergy,  with 
the  choir,  at  the  west  door,  and  conducted  to  the 


ix.]  SCENE   UNDER   THE   DOME  235 

central  area  under  the  dome,  on  which  shone  down 
the  graceful  coronal  of  light  which  encircled  the 
dome  under  the  Whispering-Gallery.  The  pall  was 
borne  by  eight  of  the  most  distinguished  general 
officers  who  had  survived  the  wars  of  their  great 
commander  or  other  glorious  wars  in  which  their 
country  had  been  engaged.  The  chief  mourner 
was  of  course  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  with  the 
Prince  Consort  and  others  of  the  Royal  Family. 

The  service  was  the  simple  Burial  Service  of  the 
Church  of  England,  with  the  fine  music  now  wedded 
to  that  service,  and  other  music,  including  an  anthem, 
of  a  very  high  order,  composed  by  the  organist, 
Mr.  Goss,  on  words  chosen  by  the  Dean  : — 

"And  the  king  said  to  all  the  people  that  were 
with  him,  '  Rend  your  clothes,  and  gird  you  with 
sackcloth  and  mourn/  And  the  king  himself 
followed  the  bier. 

."  And  they  buried  him  ;  and  the  king  lifted  up 
his  voice  and  wept  at  the  grave,  and  all  the  people 
wept.  And  the  king  said  unto  his  servants,  '  Know 
ye  not  that  there  is  a  prince  and  great  man  fallen 
this  day  in  Israel  ?" 

Some  of  the  prayers  and  the  lesson  were  read  by 
the  Dean.*  And  here  must  be  a  final  tribute  to  the 
memory  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren.  Of  all  architects, 
Wren  alone,  either  from  intuition  or  philosophic 
discernment,  has  penetrated  the  abstruse  mysteries 
of  acoustics,  has  struck  out  the  law  of  the  propaga- 
tion of  sound.  I  have  been  assured,  on  the  highest 
musical  authority,  that  there  is  no  building  in  Europe 
equal  for  sound  to  St.  Paul's.  My  voice  was  accord- 
ingly heard  distinctly  in  every  part  of  the  building, 
up  to  the  western  gallery,  by  the  many  thousands 

*  "The  congregation  were  requested  to  join  in  the  responses  to 
the  Lord's  Prayer ;  and  the  effect  of  many  thousand  voices  in  deep 
emotion  repeating  the  words  after  the  full  enunciation  of  the  Dean 
was  intensely  affecting." — Times  Report,  November  iQth,  1852. 


236  ACOUSTIC  PRE-EMINENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL'S  [CHAP. 

present,  though  the  whole  was  deadened  by  walls  of 
heavy  black  cloth  which  lined  every  part.  Nothing 
could  be  imagined  more  solemn  than  the  responses 
of  all  the  thousands  present,  who  repeated,  as  had 
been  suggested,  the  words  of  the  Lord's  Prayer.  It 
fulfilled  the  sublime  Biblical  phrase,  "  Like  the  roar 
of  many  waters,"  only  that  it  was  clear  and  distinct — 
the  sad,  combined  prayer,  as  it  were,  of  the  whole 
nation.  The  gradual  disappearance  of  the  coffin,  as 
it  slowly  sank  into  the  vault  below,  was  a  sight  which 
will  hardly  pass  away  from  the  memory  of  those  who 
witnessed  it.* 

In  connection  with  this  tribute  to  the  acoustic  pre- 
eminence of  St.  Paul's,  it  seems  fair  to  say  that 
my  father's  voice,  though  not  so  powerful  an  organ 
physically  as  that  of  many  others,  was  singularly 
clear  and  melodious,  so  that  by  skilful  management, 
with  distinct  enunciation,  he  could  make  himself 
heard  over  a  surprisingly  wide  area.  This  was  often 
noticed  a  few  years  later,  when,  on  the  establishment 
of  the  evening  services  under  the  dome,  the  Dean 
used  Sunday  after  Sunday  to  read  the  Lessons  to  a 
vast  congregation.  The  general  impressiveness  of 
his  reading  is  thus  on  one  occasion  recorded  : — 

The  Dean  again  read  the  Lessons  for  the  evening. 
It  is  remarkable  how  well  this  venerable  gentleman, 
in  spite  of  his  advanced  years,  contrives  by  the 
management  of  his  voice  to  make  himself  heard 
almost  over  the  whole  of  the  vast  area — a  task  of 
no  slight  difficulty,  as  may  be  conceived.  The 
Lessons  for  the  day,  in  themselves  impressive  in  a 
high  degree,  were  rendered  still  more  so  by  his 

*  "  Annals  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,"  second  edition,  pp.  492-4. 


ix.]  THE   DEAN   AS   READER  237 

manner  of  reading  them  ;  and  it  could  only  have 
been  on  the  outskirts  of  the  congregation,  and  there 
only  now  and  then,  that  he  was  inaudible. 

An  opinion  which  the  Dean  had  long  entertained 
of  the  desirability  of  some  revision  of  the  Lec- 
tionary  was  strengthened  by  this  new  experience, 
and  gave  occasion  to  the  following  letter : — 

[Private.] 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S,  E.G., 
January  gtk,  1865. 

MY  DEAR  LORD  ARCHBISHOP, — 

In  Mr.  Walpole's  draft  Report  for  the  Com- 
mission (p.  20)  there  is  a  sentence  which  seems  to 
infer  that  your  Grace  may  have  the  power  to  effect 
a  most  important  change  in  our  services.  I  confess 
that  I  had  always  supposed  the  Rubrics  to  be 
included  under  the  Act  of  Uniformity ;  and  in  the 
copy  of  Mr.  Walpole's  report,  just  circulated,  I  see 
that  he  has  very  much  restricted  his  former  statement. 

However  this  may  be,  the  question  of  revising 
the  proper  Lessons,  or  perhaps  the  whole  rubric  of 
Lessons,  is  one  on  which  I  feel  a  very  deep  interest. 
I  gathered,  either  from  something  which  fell  from 
your  Grace  in  the  House  of  Lords,  or  from  general 
rumour,  that  you  are  not  averse  to  the  considera- 
tion of  the  subject.  I  would  urge  you  with  great 
earnestness  not  to  be  deterred  from  this  wise 
resolution. 

My  reason  for  addressing  you  is  this  : — Of  all  the 
clergy  of  the  Church  of  England  I  have  perhaps  the 
best  right  to  be  heard  on  the  subject.  The  con- 
gregations at  the  special  services  at  St.  Paul's  are 
very  far  the  largest  that  have  ever  met  Sunday  after 
Sunday  within  the  walls  of  any  church  in  England. 
I  was  obliged  very  early,  from  mistrust  of  my 
physical  powers,  to  decline  the  office  of  Preacher; 


238  REVISION   OF   THE   LECTIONARY         [CHAP. 

but  up  to  the  last  year,  when  I  was  incapacitated 
by  illness,  I  almost  constantly  read  the  Lessons.  I 
cannot  describe  the  effect  of  a  solemn  and  impressive 
Lesson  from  the  Old  or  New  Testament  on  the  vast 
congregation.  The  breathless,  reverential  attention 
was  most  striking — the  most  simple  or  natural 
homage  to  its  beauty  or  sublimity. 

But  I  must  acknowledge  that  there  were  occa- 
sionally Lessons  which  it  was  most  painful,  which  it 
required  great  courage,  to  read  with  unfaltering  voice 
before  thousands  of  hearers  from  every  class,  of 
every  age,  of  both  sexes,  of  every  shade  of  religious 
opinion.  I  will  say  no  more,  but  that  to  relieve  the 
clergy  from  such  a  burthen  would  be  an  office  worthy 
of  the  head  of  our  Church. 

This  change  leads  of  necessity  to  no  other  change  : 
it  touches  no  point  of  doctrine,  except  remotely 
perhaps  the  very  subordinate  one  of  the  Apocryphal 
Lessons.  I  need  not  remind  your  Grace  of  the 
passage  in  the  Preface  to  the  Second  Book  of 
Homilies,  in  which  a  wide,  perhaps  too  wide, 
liberty  of  changing  the  Lessons  was  given  to  the 
clergy.  Do,  my  dear  Lord  Archbishop,  for  once 
forestall  that  pressure  from  without  which  sooner  or 
later  will  come.  I  see  a  cloud  looming  in  the  distance, 
not  bigger  than  a  man's  hand-writing,  than  one 
sermon.  If  your  Grace  does  not  understand  my 
allusion,  the  Archbishop  of  York,  I  think,  would. 
At  all  events  I  am  sure  that,  after  what  I  have  thus 
briefly  written,  you  will  accept  my  earnest  advice  as 
a  mark  of  my  profound  general  admiration  of  our 
Liturgy  (those  who  admit  and  would  remove  some 
few  blemishes  are  not  the  least  ardent  admirers  of 
it),  and  of  the  sincere  regard  and  esteem  with  which 
I  subscribe  myself 

Your  Grace's 

Most  truly  and  faithfully, 

H.   H.  MILMAN. 


ix.]  EVENING    SERVICES   AT   ST.    PAUL'S          239 

The    first   of   these   evening   services    had   been 
held    on     Advent     Sunday,     1858  ;     and    a    few 
words    may  be   said  about   their   introduction,   the 
more    especially    as    there    would    seem    to    have 
been  some  misunderstanding  on  the  subject.       In 
the  previous  year — November,  1857 — Lord  Shaftes- 
bury  and  some  of  his    friends   had  commenced  a 
series  of  Sunday-evening  services  in  Exeter  Hall ; 
but  these  services  were  considered  by  the  incum- 
bent of  the   parish   in    which   the  hall   is   situated 
as    an    intrusion    upon    his    parish,    and,    in    the 
exercise    of    what    was    undoubtedly    held    to    be 
his  legal  right,  he  put  his  veto  upon  their  continu- 
ance.     This   was   by    many   regarded   as   a   harsh 
measure,  and  hard  words  were  aimed  at  a  Church 
which,    while    itself    neglecting    the    opportunities 
of  attracting   large    masses   of  the   people   offered 
by  the  noble  spaces  at  its  command,  yet  did  not 
hesitate  to  warn  off  trespassers  upon  its  province. 
A   Bill,  subsequently  withdrawn,  was  brought  into 
Parliament  to  legalize   such  services ;    and    in  the 
meantime  services  were  recommenced  in  the  hall, 
to    which,   liturgical   forms  being   excluded,  it  was 
assumed   that   no  valid  objection  could  be  raised. 
The  discussion  and  the  feeling  which  it  engendered 
had    no  doubt  the  effect  of  quickening  the  deter- 
mination already  formed  by  the  Bishop  of  London, 
Dr.    Tait,    to   secure  the   opening  of  Westminster 
Abbey  and  St.   Paul's  to  popular  services ;  and  in 
this  view  he  addressed  a  communication  to  the  Dean 
and  Chapter  of  his  Cathedral,  urging  upon  them  the 


240  DEAN    MILMAN'S   LETTER  [CHAP. 

advisability  of  instituting  a  series  of  special  evening 
services  for  the  benefit  of  those  large  masses  of  the 
people  whom  it  might  be  impossible  to  attract  in 
any  other  way.     In  his  own  name  and  in  that  of 
the   Chapter   Dean   Milman   replied  to  the   Bishop 
on  February    ist,    1858.*      After   expressing   their 
44  earnest,    unanimous,    and   sincere    desire    to    co- 
operate to  the  utmost  of  their  power  in  the  promotion 
of  religious  worship  and  the  preaching  of  the  Word 
of  God  in  the  metropolis,  especially  as  regards  those 
classes  for  which  such  services  are  more  particularly 
designed,"  the  letter  went  on  to  discuss  the  prac- 
ticability  of   the   plan    and   the    best    methods    of 
carrying  it  out,  and  to  point  out  the  difficulties  which 
would  inevitably  arise  from  the   scantiness  of  the 
funds  which  could  be  applied  for  such  a  purpose  ; 
and  then  the  Dean  proceeds  to  develop  his  further 
views   for   the   decoration    and    completion    of  the 
interior,  so  that  the  Cathedral  might  be  made  within 
worthy  of  its  exterior  grandeur  and  beauty.     The 
Dean  and  Chapter  desired  no  more  than  to  see  their 
way  clearly  before  embarking  in  an  enterprise  of 
some  magnitude  ;  nor  would  there  appear  to  have 
been  any  undue  delay  in  carrying  out  the  wishes  of 
the  Bishop,  as  the  first  series  of  the  special  services 
was  held  before  the  end   of  the  same  year,   com- 
mencing,   as   has   been    said,    on   Advent    Sunday. 
Once  determined  upon,  the  Dean  set  himself  with 
wonted  energy  to  see  that  they  were  properly  carried 
out,   rarely,  so  long  as  health  permitted,  omitting 

*  See  "  Handbook  of  St.  Paul's,"  pp.  92-6. 


ix.]  DECORATION   OF  ST.   PAUL'S  241 

attendance  at  them  ;  and  when,  at  their  commence- 
ment, the  Commissioner  of  Police  came  to  him  and 
expressed  some  alarm  with  respect  to  the  crowds 
which  might  be  attracted,  he  replied,  "If  you  will 
see  that  there  is  no  disorder  outside,  I  will  undertake 
that  there  shall  be  none  within  the  interior  of  the 
building." 

Nor  was  there,  except  on  the  first  evening,  and 
then  only  outside  the  Cathedral,  where  there  was 
some  slight  confusion  and  expression  of  disappro- 
bation, arising,  however,  solely  from  the  disappoint- 
ment caused  to  many  who,  after  long  waiting,  had 
to  retire,  the  church,  on  the  opening  of  the  doors, 
having  immediately  been  filled  to  overflowing.  In 
the  concluding  pages  of  the  "  Annals  of  St.  Paul's  " 
a  brief  summary  is  given  of  what  was  immediately 
done  towards  the  adaptation  of  the  building  for 
public  worship  on  a  larger  and  more  comprehensive 
scale.  For  carrying  out  the  larger  and  more 
ambitious  scheme  for  the  completion  and  decoration 
of  a  building  so  vast  as  St.  Paul's,  the  first  steps 
were  almost  necessarily  hesitating  and  tentative  ; 
and  the  costliness  of  the  undertaking  was  in  itself 
a  bar  to  any  rapid  progress.  One  great  step,  the 
starting-point  of  all  future  improvements,  was, 
however,  taken  as  early  as  1860,  when,  in  conse- 
quence of  a  plan  for  the  enlargement  of  the  organ, 
the  Screen  between  the  Choir  and  the  Dome, 
originally  set  up  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  Sir 
Christopher  Wren,  was  temporarily  removed. 
The  magnificent  effect  of  the  uninterrupted  view 

16 


242  FUTURE  OF  ST.   PAUL'S  [CHAP. 

of  the  Cathedral  from  end  to  end  which  was 
opened  out  by  this  removal  made  such  an  im- 
pression upon  the  Dean  that  he  at  once  decided 
that  the  Screen  should  not  be  re-erected.  Since 
then  the  whole  vast  area  of  the  building  has 
remained,  as  he  desired,  available  for  public 
worship. 

My  father  was  well  aware  that  he  could  never 
live  to  see  more  than  the  first  dawn  of  the  new 
era  that  was  approaching  in  the  history  of  the 
Cathedral.  Still,  it  was  something  to  have  in- 
augurated the  great  work  ;  and  he  was  full  of 
hope  that,  a  beginning  once  made,  it  would  com- 
mend itself  ever  more  and  more  to  public  favour 
and  piety,  and  that  the  day  would  assuredly 
come  when  the  great  design  would  be  worthily 
achieved,  when  the  last  finishing  grace  would  be 
given  to  that  glorious  fabric  which  he  so  ardently 
admired. 


x.]  A  COURT  OF   HONOUR  243 


CHAPTER  X. 

Publishers  and  Retail  Booksellers — Clerical  Subscription  Commis- 
sion— Sir  Joseph  Napier — Dean  Milman's  Speech  and  Proposal 
— Opinions  of  Dr.  Goodwin  and  Lord  Westbury  thereupon — 
Tours  Abroad — Rome  and  the  Catacombs — The  Passion  Play 
at  Ober-Ammergau. 

LEAVING,  but  not  for  long,  the  Cathedral, 
I  may  say  a  few  words  upon  my  father's 
connection  with  other  public  questions  in  the  settle- 
ment or  consideration  of  which  he  felt  that  he 
ought  not  to  refuse  such  assistance  as  he  was 
able  to  give.  To  one  of  these  occasions,  if  not 
altogther  public  in  the  widest  sense,  yet  still  of 
considerable  importance,  at  least  from  a  literary 
and  educational  point  of  view,  Lord  Campbell  thus 
refers  in  his  diary  under  date  of  May,  1852  : — 

I  have  been  sitting  as  Chief  Justice,  with  Milman, 
the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and  Grote,  the  historian 
of  Greece,  as  my  puisnes,  upon  a  grand  question 
between  the  publishers  and  the  retail  booksellers 
as  to  the  right  of  the  former  to  dictate  a  minimum 
price  at  which  new  books  are  to  be  sold  by  the 
latter  to  their  customers.  Macaulay  and  all  the 
great  literary  men  have  taken  a  lively  interest  in 
the  controversy.  The  hearing  took  place  at 
Stratheden  House,  our  court  sitting  foribus  apertis, 
and  attended  by  reporters.  The  judgment  which 


244  FREE   TRADE   IN   BOOKS  [CHAP. 

I  delivered  in  favour  of  free  trade  in  books  will 
be  a  curious  document  two  hundred  years  hence, 
illustrating  the  manner  in  which  knowledge  was 
circulated  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria.  I  never 
took  such  pains  with  any  judgment  to  be  delivered 
in  Westminster  Hall.* 

This  controversy,  which,  in  spite  of  Lord  Camp- 
bell's judgment,  has  since  been  more  than  once 
revived,  had  become  acute  in  1852,  and  publishers 
and  booksellers  had  agreed  to  refer  the  question 
to  the  arbitration  of  a  Court  of  Honour,  consisting 
of  representatives  of  literature,  to  which  the  Lord 
Chief  Justice,  himself  an  author  of  considerable 
reputation,  would  add  the  full  weight  of  his  judicial 
position  and  legal  acumen. 

Early  in  1 864  a  Royal  Commission  was  appointed 
to  consider  the  forms  of  subscription  and  declaration 
of  assent  required  from  the  clergy  of  the  United 
Church  of  England  and  Ireland,  and  how  far  they 
might  admit  of  alteration  ;  and  upon  this  "  Clerical 
Subscription  "  Commission,  as  it  was  shortly  entitled, 
my  father  accepted  a  seat.  The  Commissioners 
held  many  meetings,  and  at  one  of  the  later  ones 
my  father  proposed  that  the  only  subscription  to 
be  required  should  be  subscription  to  the  Liturgy, 
the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  on  the  ground  that 
the  doctrines  of  our  Church  are  more  simply,  fully, 
and  more  winningly  taught  in  the  Liturgy  than 
in  the  Articles.  The  proposal  seems  to  have  fallen 
like  a  sort  of  bombshell  among  some  of  the  members 

*  "  Life  of  Lord  Campbell,"  ii.  307. 


x.]  CLERICAL   SUBSCRIPTION  245 

of  the  Commission.  There  was  an  attempt  to  ex- 
clude the  question,  the  Archbishop  *  going  so  far 
as  to  say  that  if  he  had  known  that  it  was  to  be 
discussed  he  would  not  have  served  on  the  Com- 
mission. He  was,  however,  overruled,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  the  discussion  should  be  taken.  My 
father's  speech,  when  advocating  his  proposal,  was 
acknowledged,  even  by  those  who  widely  differed 
from  his  conclusions,  to  have  been  a  wonderful 
instance  of  moral  courage,  and  of  tact  and  ability 
in  handling  a  most  difficult  and  delicate  subject. 
"  Never,"  said  the  Dean  of  Ely  (Dr.  Goodwin, 
afterwards  Bishop  of  Carlisle),  "  had  I  a  higher 
intellectual  gratification  than  in  hearing  that  noble 
old  man  expound  his  views  before  us." 

The  speech,  although  the  conclusions  which  it 
enforced  were  too  advanced  for  the  majority  of 
the  Commission,  made  a  considerable  impression, 
and  it  was  privately  printed  at  their  request.! 
Many  excellent  persons  were,  however,  alarmed ; 
and  Sir  Joseph  Napier,  J  a  member  of  the  Com- 
mission, gave  voice  to  this  alarm  in  a  pamphlet 
which,  as  a  matter  of  course,  claimed  to  have 
refuted  the  Dean's  arguments. 

There  was  a  rather  amusing  interchange  of 
letters  between  the  Deans  of  St.  Paul's  and  of 
Westminster  on  the  subject.  My  father  writes 
to  Dean  Stanley  : — 

*  Archbishop  Longley. 

t  It  was  afterwards  reprinted  in  Eraser's  Magazine,  Ixxi.  269. 
\  Sir  Joseph  Napier  was  Lord  Chancellor  of  Ireland,   1858,  in 
Lord  Derby's  second  Administration. 


246  A  THEOLOGICAL  SHILLELAGH  [CHAP. 

ADDISCOMBE,  CROYDON,  September  2oth. 
Herewith  you  will  receive  a  paper  in  which  you 
are  somewhat  concerned.  Why  the  ex-Tory  Chan- 
cellor should  think  it  necessary  to  reply  at  length 
and  in  print  to  a  speech  privately  printed  at  the 
request  of  the  Commission,  the  Commission  not 
having  authorized  him  to  do  so,  I  know  not.  It 
seems  somewhat  irregular.  Of  course  I  shall  take 
no  notice  of  it.  The  Archbishop,  of  whom  I  have 
seen  a  good  deal  (not  one  word,  of  course,  on  the 
three  Pastorals),  agreed  with  me  that  it  was  a 
queer  proceeding,  as  did  Lord  Cranworth.  One 
of  his  objects  evidently  is  to  knock  the  two  Deans' 
heads  together.  I  can  only  say  that  since  the 
concussion  I  have  not  suffered  the  least  headache, 
nor  can  I  think  that  I  shall  afflict  you  with  one 
by  imparting  it  to  you.  It  is  a  lawyer,  and  a 
clever  lawyer,  but  an  Irish  lawyer,  taking  to  wield 
the  theological  shillelagh.  I  was  much  taken  with 
Napier  on  the  Commission,  and  we  became  great 
friends.  I  won  his  heart  by  a  quotation.  It 
appeared  that  the  Irish  subscriptions  were  much 
more  liberal  than  the  English,  and  I  proposed  to 
him  to  move  the  adoption  of  the  Irish. 

Graecia  capta  ferum  victorem  cepit  et  artes 
Intulit  agresti  Latio, — 

Agresti  Latio  being  construed  the  English  country 
clergy.  He  enjoyed  one  inappreciable  advantage  in 
debate.  He  was  so  deaf  (much  more  so  than  I 
am)  that  he  could  hear  as  much  or  as  little  of  his 
opponent's  arguments  as  was  convenient,  and  state 
his  adversary's  case  so  as  to  knock  down  very  easily 
the  ninepins  that  he  had  set  up.  He  has  carried 
his  deafness  in  some  degree  into  his  written  reply. 
He  has  carefully  suppressed  the  gist  of  my  argu- 
ment :  that  I  did  not  propose  altogether  to  do 
away  with  doctrinal  statements ;  but  that  the  creeds 


x.]  SIR  JOSEPH   NAPIER  247 

being  contained  in  the  Liturgy,  this  was  the  best 
and  the  sufficient  security. 

I  hope  that  you  have  had  a  pleasant  tour,  and 
trust  that  you  enlightened  our  friend  Guizot  as 
to  the  state  of  questions  about  which  he  seems 
as  much  in  the  dark  as  were  he  an  archbishop 
or  cardinal. 

To  which  Stanley  replies,  October  2nd: — 

How  perversely  amusing  and  amusingly  provok- 
ing is  the  Irishman's  attack  upon  you!  Pusey  in  his 
preface  to  his  lectures  on  Daniel  (have  you  seen 
them  ? — kind  enough  to  me,  but  teeming  with  rancour 
to  every  one  else)  accuses  me  of  being  devoid  of  the 
philosophical  faculty  of  seeing  differences.  It  seems 
to  me  that  in  his  attempts  to  set  the  two  Deans  at 
variance  Mr.  Napier  shows  that  he  possesses  this 
philosophical  faculty  in  the  highest  degree. 

My  father  had,  as  he  says,  taken  a  liking  to 
Napier ;  and  the  attraction,  in  spite  of  diversity 
of  opinion,  appears  to  have  been  mutual,  as  there 
was  subsequently  a  very  friendly  interchange  of 
letters  between  them.  One  of  these  from  Sir 
Joseph  Napier  to  my  father,  acknowledging  the 
receipt  of  a  copy  of  his  last  sermon  at  Oxford, 
and  otherwise  interesting,  will  illustrate  this  feeling. 
It  is  from  Dublin,  in  April,  1865: — 

MY  DEAR  DEAN, — 

Veniam  damns  petimusque  vicissim.  Let 
me  thank  you  very  much  for  the  sermon  and  the 
kind  accompaniment  of  your  genial  letter.  I  assure 
you  in  all  sincerity  I  was  grieved  to  find  myself  in 
seeming  collision  with  you  before  the  public ;  for  I 


248  REPORT  OF  THE   COMMISSION  [CHAP. 

had  found  so  much  of  agreement  when  on  the 
Commission,  I  had  almost  supposed  that  our 
difference  was  not  considerable.  We  agreed  as  to 
the  abolition  of  "profane  swearing,"  and  I  much 
mistake  if  we  differ  greatly  as  to  the  amendments 
that  might  be  made  in  our  Church  documents,  and 
that  must  be  made  in  due  season,  if  we  resolve  on 
upholding  the  nationality  of  our  Church.  I  think 
we  also  agreed  in  checkmating  the  priestly  diplo- 
matist, my  Lord  of  Oxford,  when  we  found  him 
resorting  to  characteristic  means  for  working  out  his 
special  objects. 

Had  you  taken  the  line  of  requiring  revision  of 
the  Articles  and  Formularies  as  a  preliminary  to  a 
revision  or  at  least  to  a  final  adjustment  of  the 
form  of  subscription,  etc.,  it  is  more  than  probable 
I  should  have  co-operated  with  you.  But  I  did 
honestly  believe  that  the  subscription  should  include 
the  code  of  doctrine  dogmatically  declared  by  the 
Church,  and  that  the  exclusion  of  the  Articles  would 
not  conduce  to  the  welfare  of  the  Church  in  England 
or  Ireland.  My  paper  was  printed  and  circulated  in 
the  autumn  ;  and  when  in  December  you  favoured 
me  with  a  very  able  sketch  of  a  Draft  Report,  I 
was  much  gratified  to  find  that,  in  the  statement  of 
the  proper  structure  of  a  form  of  subscription,  and 
in  the  approval  of  the  form  on  which  we  had  agreed, 
there  was  not  a  word  to  which  I  was  not  prepared 
most  cordially  to  accede  and  unreservedly  to  adopt. 

I  was  not  present  at  the  final  meeting.  The 
manoeuvres  of  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  had  reduced 
our  Report  to  "dry  bones,"  and  I  thought  there  was 
no  use  in  my  further  attendance.  When  I  saw  your 
paper  in  Fraser,  I  did,  I  confess,  grumble  at  the 
publication,  for  this  simple  reason — that  it  seemed  to 
me  to  have  gone  too  far  in  the  way  of  publication 
or  not  far  enough.  Acting  on  this  impulse,  I  was 
led  to  give  the  Supplement,  by  which  both  of  us  are 


x.]  FAIR   DISCUSSION  249 

pleaders  at  the  public  bar;  and  ''God  defend  the 
right."  It  is  not  unlikely  that  some  (perhaps  many) 
may  take  an  intermediate  view,  and  at  all  events 
there  is  nothing  in  either  paper  that  is  not  pro- 
pounded in  the  spirit  of  kindliness  and  with  the  love 
of  truth.  Free  and  fair  discussion  must  always 
advance  the  cause  of  truth. 

And  now,  my  dear  Dean,  let  me  say  that  I  read 
the  sermon  before  I  began  the  letter.  I  read  it 
with  most  sincere  gratification,  admiring  as  I  do 
the  elegance  of  its  style,  the  wisdom  of  its  teaching, 
and  the  spirit  which  it  breathes  throughout.  If  I 
dare  find  a  flaw,  it  would  be  this,  and  this  only  : 
that  I  doubt  whether  it  is  exact  to  isolate  the 
"  moral  sense" — whether  the  appeal  of  our  glorious 
Christianity  is  not  made  to  man  as  an  intelligent, 
moral,  spiritual,  and  immortal  being,  to  man  as  a 
complex  whole.  I  follow  Hooker,  bk.  i.,  ch.  xvi., 
s.  5.  But  I  thoroughly  agree  in  the  pre-eminence 
of  the  moral  element.  You  imposed  a  penalty  on 
me,  a  very  remedial  one.  Let  me  avenge  me  of 
my  adversary  by  sending  you  what  at  least  may 
serve  to  show  that  we  move  in  parallels,  if  not  side 
by  side.  I  am  not  surprised  at  the  University 
desiring  to  have  your  sermon  published,  and  I 
heartily  hope  it  may  elevate  and  assure  the  hearts 
of  good  and  thoughtful  students  in  that  venerable 
and  admirable  institution. 

Most  faithfully, 

JOSEPH  NAPIER. 

P.S. — I  observe  that  I  have  not  given  an  answer 
to  two  passages  in  your  letter.  I  entirely  agree  in 
the  propriety  of  seeking  to  amend  what  we  are 
unable  to  abolish — in  other  words,  the  practical 
wisdom  of  doing  the  best  we  can  in  the  circum- 
stances in  which  we  may  be  placed.  But  I, 
perhaps,  have  put  too  strict  a  construction  on  your 
emphatic  commendation  of  the  new  form,  and  may 


250  LORD   CHANCELLOR  WESTBURY         [CHAP. 

not  have  understood  that  approval  in  the  relative 
sense  that  you  intended  when  you  drew  it  up.  I 
well  remember  the  publication  of  the  "  History  of 
the  Jews."  But  in  the  interval  I  have  learned 
the  wisdom  of  moderation,  the  duty  of  deference,  the 
large  provision  that  is  obviously  designed  in  the 
Divine  economy  for  "liberty  of  prophesying"  ;  and 
whilst  I  hold  the  great  eternal  verities  which  are 
the  heritage  of  the  Church  from  the  beginning,  I 
candidly  admit  that  as  I  grow  older  I  feel  lenior 
et  melior — 'my  heart  enlarged,  my  sympathies 
widened,  and  my  creed  simplified.  What  I  dread 
is  the  presumptuousness  of  shallow  men,  and  what  I 
detest  is  the  bigotry  of  narrow-minded  men.  But  I 
live  in  hope;  I  desire  an  increase  of  faith  and  charity. 
So  having  made  my  confession  in  due  form  of 
law,  I  anticipate — absolution. 

Again  most  faithfully, 

J.  N. 

To  Dr.  Goodwin's  opinion  upon  my  father's 
speech  before  the  Commission  I  am  tempted  to 
add  that  of  a  very  different  authority,  Lord  Chan- 
cellor Westbury,  although  I  do  not  feel  at  liberty 
to  quote  at  length  the  private  letter  in  which  it 
was  conveyed.  The  Chancellor  wrote : — 

I  have  delayed  for  some  days,  in  the  hope  of 
finding  time  to  write  to  you  more  fully  than  I 
am  now  able  to  do,  the  returning  you  my  most 
sincere  thanks  for  your  most  kind  courtesy  in 
sending  me  a  copy  of  your  admirable  and  con- 
vincing speech,  and  also  for  the  gratifying  note 
that  accompanied  it.  In  the  sentiments  and  con- 
clusions of  the  speech  I  entirely  concur.  I  wish 
it  had  been  delivered  by  the  Speaker  from  a  certain 
bench  in  the  House  of  Lords. 


x.]  HOLIDAY   TOURS  251 

Some  strong  language  on  the  efforts  of  the  High 
Church  party  to  emancipate  the  Church  from  the 
supremacy  of  the  Crown  follows,  and  then  the  letter 
concludes  : — 

I  am  told  Dr.  P.  says,  [referring  to  the  well- 
known  judgment  in  which  the  Lord  Chancellor  was 
said  to  have  ''dismissed  Hell  with  costs"],  and 
that  many  who  agree  with  him  say,  "  Our  con- 
solation is  that  the  Lord  Chancellor  will  sometime 
feel  what  is  meant  by  eternal  punishment.  This 
is  the  modern  form  of  Anathema,  Maranatha. 

My  father  sometimes  expressed  himselr  a  little 
impatiently  of  those  who,  as  he  said,  "  babbled 
about  green  fields  "  when  their  whole  thoughts  and 
minds  should  be  given  to  the  work  which  was  set 
before  them,  and  he  was  too  eminently  a  "  clubable  " 
man  to  have  adapted  himself  easily  to  the  banish- 
ment of  a  country  preferment ;  but  when  the  time 
for  a  well-earned  holiday  came  round,  no  one  could 
take  a  greater  delight  than  he  did  in  the  change 
to  a  country  life,  or,  so  long  as  he  felt  up  to  it, 
to  the  at  one  time  almost  annual  tours  upon  the 
Continent.  He  had  a  singular  skill  and  a  genuine 
pleasure  in  arranging  the  plans  for  these  tours, 
which  were  all  carefully  thought  out,  so  as  to 
embrace  within  the  limited  time  that  could  be 
allotted  to  them  as  much  variety  as  possible,  com- 
bining cities  and  scenery,  the  works  of  nature  and 
the  works  of  art,  in  due  proportion.  Independently 
of  the  mere  physical  and  intellectual  enjoyment  of 
these  journeys,  the  educational  value  to  his  sons, 


252  EDUCATION   BY   EXAMPLE  [CHAP. 

one  or  more  of  whom  were  invariably  of  the  party, 
can  scarcely  be  over-estimated  ;  nor  can  they,  after 
the  lapse  of  so  many  years,  look  back  upon  them 
without  a  deep  sense  of  the  affectionate  forethought 
with  which  they  were  evolved. 

Our  father  had,  I  think,  no  cut-and-dried 
"  theories"  of  education.  Example  was  in  his  view 
of  more  avail  than  elaborated  formula  or  precept. 
To  bring  his  sons  face  to  face  with,  to  put  into 
their  way,  without  any  constraint  or  compulsion, 
merely  as  if  it  were  in  the  natural  order  of  things, 
and  in  due  measure  from  very  early  years,  the 
noblest  works  of  literature  and  of  art — this  was 
his  method  of  instruction.  So  grounded,  equipped 
with  such  tests,  he  would  leave  them  to  follow  out 
unrestrictedly  each  his  own  particular  bent,  to 
winnow  the  wheat  from  the  chaff,  ever  ready  to 
assist  in  the  process,  but  never  imposing  opinions — 
imposed  opinions  and  beliefs  being  in  his  judgment 
of  little  value. 

Half  a  century  ago  the  system  of  Continental 
railways  was  but  in  an  inchoate  stage.  Many  cross- 
country journeys  had  to  be  traversed  with  post-horses 
or  by  vetturino.  And  this,  which  would  now  be 
looked  upon  as  rather  a  slow  procedure,  was  entirely 
consistent  with  my  father's  tastes.  He  loved  to 
linger  by  the  way,  to  visit  each  place  on  the  route 
that  offered  any  point  of  historic  interest,  or  attracted 
by  the  picturesqueness  of  its  situation.  So  in  turn 
were  seen,  and  well  seen,  most  of  the  principal 
towns,  most  of  the  finest  ecclesiastical  and  secular 


x.]  THROUGH   THE   ABRUZZI  253 

buildings,    in    France,     Germany,    and    Italy ;    so, 
leisurely  stopping  at  each  convenient  resting-place, 
and  spread  out  over  at  least  three  years,  the  lovely 
coast  of  the  Riviera  was  thoroughly  explored.     To 
the  cities   of  Northern    Italy,    combined    with    the 
Italian    lakes,    the    Austrian    and    Bavarian    Tyrol, 
several   weeks   in    succeeding  years   were   devoted. 
Among  the  later  tours  that  he  undertook,  one,  in 
1857,  was  to   my  father  of  peculiar  interest,  as  it 
fulfilled    a    long-felt   wish   to    show   us    Rome,    to 
revisit  himself  the  capital  city  of  Latin  Christianity, 
and    to   have   actual   sight   of  many   other    places 
with  the  names  iand  aspects  of  which  his  writings 
had  made  him  so   familiar.     Rome,   however,  and 
the  south  of  Italy  had  always  been  a  difficulty,  as 
the  tours  had  to  be  taken   in   the  hottest  months 
of  the  year,   July  to  October ;  and  Rome  at  least 
was  held  to  be  inaccessible  until  the  latter  month 
at  the  earliest.     Obstacles  of  this  kind  never  stood 
long  in  my  father's  way  if  he  had  an  object  in  view ; 
and  with    the   advice   of  Sir   James   Lacaita,   who 
spoke   highly^  of  the   beauty   of  the   scenery    and 
of  the   many    places   of  interest   on   the   route,   it 
was  determined  that  we  would  make  our  way  from 
Florence   to    Naples,    through   the  Abruzzi,   under 
the  central  chain  of  the  Apennines,  leaving  Rome 
till   our   return    in    the    autumn,    and    passing   by 
Aquila,   Popoli,  Sulmona,  Isernia,  with  its  beautiful 
fountains    and    filthy   streets,    Venafro,    and    other 
places  of  interest. 

It  would  be  out  1  of  place  to  enter  at  length  upon 


254  A  WILD  COUNTRY  [CHAP. 

the  details  of  this  journey,  or  to  attempt  any 
description  of  places  now  comparatively  well  known  ; 
but  forty  years  ago  the  expedition  was  not  without 
excitement,  and  was  perhaps  for  my  father  and 
mother  somewhat  adventurous,  as  the  accommoda- 
tion was  rough,  the  natives  rather  wild,  quite 
unaccustomed  to  travellers,  civil  enough  in  their 
way,  but  disposed  to  regard  an  English  family, 
with  travelling  carriage  and  other  impedimenta, 
dropped  into  their  midst,  as  a  heaven-sent  gift 
which  it  would  be  ungracious  to  send  on  its  way 
without  a  considerable  amount  of  pious  pillagement— 
a  process  which  was  rendered  all  the  easier  as,  on 
crossing  into  Neapolitan  territory,  we  found  that  all 
the  post-horses  along  our  route  had  been  retained 
for  some  days  by  order  of  a  royal  prince,  which 
gave  a  legal  excuse  for  refusing  them  altogether, 
but  not  for  exacting  at  the  least  double  payment. 
At  Rieti,  our  very  first  halting-place  after  leaving 
the  more  frequented  road  at  Terni,  I  remember  we 
had  the  utmost  difficulty  in  persuading  our  host 
to  adopt  our  views  as  to  the  number  of  rooms  and 
beds  requisite  for  the  accommodation  of  a  party 
of  five.  Two  in  a  bed  was  a  normal,  three  a  not 
unreasonable  arrangement ;  any  other  extravagant. 
If  we  must  have  five  beds,  there  was,  in  fact,  a 
large  room  with  precisely  five  in  it,  and  thus 
exceptionally  adapted  to  our  requirements !  Even 
after  he  had  grasped  and  agreed  to  satisfy  our 
demands,  he  could  not  get  over  their  extravagance ; 
but,  going  forth  into  the  market-place,  announced 


x.]  UNREASONABLE   DEMANDS  255 

to  a  listening  crowd  that  he  had  got  an  English 
family  of  five  in  his  house  who  insisted  upon  having 
five  beds,  and,  displaying  the  fingers  of  his  right 
hand,  cried  out,  "  Cinque  persone,  cinque  letti  " — an 
announcement  which  was  received  with  shouts  of 
laughter,  and  in  consequence  of  which  we  were 
followed,  when  we  went  out  for  a  stroll  round  the 
town,  by  a  queer  set  of  loafers,  whom  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  shake  off  even  on  our  return  to  the 
inn,  where  they  crowded  up  the  staircase,  and 
could  scarcely  be  persuaded  to  retire. 

One  other  recollection  may  serve  as  an  additional 
illustration  of  the  wild  nature  of  the  country  which 
we  were  traversing.  Soon  after  leaving  Castel  di 
Sangro,  as  we  were  driving  across  a  high  upland 
plateau,  we  found  that  the  trees  had  been  cut  down 
for  a  hundred  yards  on  each  side  of  the  road,  lest 
they  should  serve  as  a  lurking-place  for  robbers, 
and  the  peasants  were  travelling  in  companies, 
three  carts  together,  with  their  rifles  lying  con- 
spicuous on  the  top  of  the  freight.  In  spite  of 
the  interest  of  the  journey,  which  was  great,  we 
were  not,  it  may  be  confessed,  altogether  sorry 
to  find  ourselves  in  Capua.  At  Naples,  where 
we  came  in  for  a  brief  but  very  brilliant  eruption 
of  Vesuvius,  at  Salerno,  with  an  expedition  to 
Paestum,  Amalfi,  Sorrento,  several  weeks  were 
spent ;  and  then  there  was  a  never-to-be-forgotten 
month  at  Rome,  where,  among  other  things,  my 
father  had  the  great  satisfaction  of  visiting  many 
of  the  principal  catacombs  under  the  guidance  of 


256  ALBANO  [CHAP. 

the  Cavaliere  de  Rossi,  whose  great  work,  "  La 
Roma  Sotterranea  Cristiana,"  gave  occasion  for 
his  last  contribution  to  the  Quarterly  Review, 
an  article  upon  Pagan  and  Christian  sepulchres. 
This  essay,  biographically  speaking,  is  one  of  con- 
siderable interest,  not  only  as  a  last  contribution 
to  the  Review,  of  which  he  had  been  so  constant 
a  supporter,  but  as  giving  evident  expression 
to  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  crowded 
upon  the  writer  on  entering  the  Eternal  City 
after  an  interval  of  five-and-thirty  years,  during 
which  it  had  been  the  central  theme  of  his 
principal  historical  work  and  seldom  out  of  his 
thoughts.* 

We  approached  Rome  from  the  south,  resting 
and  attuning  our  minds  for  a  few  days  in  the 
pure  air  of  Albano,  whence  we  looked  down  upon 
the  Campagna,  broken  by  long  lines  of  tomb- 
bordered  roads  and  broken  aqueducts,  and  onwards 
to  the  city  of  domes,  far  off,  but  distinctly  visible 
in  the  morning  and  evening  lights.  It  is  from 
this  direction  that  Rome  ought  to  be  entered,  if 
we  wish  our  classical  enthusiasm  to  be  raised  to 
the  proper  pitch ;  and  the  opportunity  of  doing 
so,  incidental  to  the  route  which  had  been  taken, 
no  doubt  largely  influenced  my  father  in  its  choice. 
His  view  on  the  subject  is  best  expressed  in  his 
own  words,  or  rather,  perhaps,  in  the  words  of 


*  See  "  Savonarola,  Erasmus,  and  other  Essays,"  pp.  448,  etc. 
From  the  essay  upon  "Pagan  and  Christian  Sepulchres"  several 
quotations  are  given  for  the  reason  referred  to  in  the  text. 


x.]  PROFESSOR   EDWARD   BURTON  257 

his  old  Oxford   friend  Professor  Burton,  which  he 
adopts  : — 

It  has  been  often  said  that  the  English  traveller 
usually  enters  Rome  the  wrong  way.  It  has 
never  been  better  said  than  in  an  old  book,  by 
one  who,  as  many  men  living  may  recollect,  was 
held  in  the  highest  esteem  and  affection  in  the 
University  of  Oxford,  Professor  Edward  Burton, 
whose  early  death  cut  him  off"  prematurely  from 
the  highest  ecclesiastical  honours,  which  might 
have  been  commanded  by  his  profound  but  modest 
learning,  his  singularly  calm  yet  at  the  same  time 
liberal  mind.  We  quote  the  passage  in  respect 
for  his  memory,  and  as  expressing  our  own 
sentiments  with  peculiar  force  and  distinctness. 

The  remainder  of  the  extract,  in  which  the  very 
different  feelings  which  are  aroused  in  the  mind 
of  the  traveller,  according  as  he  may  make  his 
approach  to  Rome  from  the  north  or  from  the 
south,  from  Florence  or  from  Naples,  are  con- 
trasted, is  too  long  for  reproduction  here ;  but  to 
the  still  more  modern  traveller  even  the  choice 
between  these  two  alternatives  is  often  denied. 

How  many  of  our  fellow- creatures  are  now  shot 
into  Rome  from  dreary  Civita  Vecchia,  along  the 
dreary  morass  over  which  the  railway  passes,  to  be 
deposited  in  a  dreary  station,  as  utterly  unconscious 
of  any  of  the  noble  and  stirring  emotions  which 
used  to  attend  the  entrance  into  the  Eternal  City 
as  their  portmanteau  in  the  van  !  Verily  there  is 
truth  in  Mr.  Ruskin's  saying,  that  railroads  have 
reduced  man  to  a  parcel — all  that  he  can  desire, 
all  that  he  can  demand,  is  speedy  and  safe 
delivery. 

17 


258  THE   APPIAN  WAY  [CHAP. 

Compare  with  this  the  approach  to  Rome  from 
the  side  of  Naples,  as  described  by  Professor 
Burton — needless  to  say,  before  the  monotonous 
uniformity  of  railway  stations  and  lines  had  gone 
far  to  reduce  all  entrances  to  one  dead  level. 

Truly — 

Servabat  sacros  Deus  olim  Terminus  agros, 
Confundit  vester  Terminus  omne  solum. 

And  then  let  my  father  continue  : — 

If  such  was  the  approach  to  Rome,  fallen  and 
in  ruins,  what  was  it  to  Rome  in  her  glory  and 
in  her  majesty  !  This  line  of  approach — or  rather 
for  the  last  twelve  miles  parallel  to  this — was  the 
famous  Appian  Way,  the  queen,  as  it  is  called  by 
Statius,  of  the  Roman  roads ;  and  this  Appian 
Way  mile  after  mile  thronged  with  the  sepulchres 
and  monuments  of  the  dead.  Conceive  a  West- 
minster Abbey  of  twelve  or  sixteen  miles,  on  either 
side  crowded  with  lofty  tombs  or  votive  edifices 
to  the  dead,  and  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  half  a  mile 
deep,  interrupted  only  here  and  there  by  some 
stately  temple  to  the  gods,  or  by  some  luxurious 
villa,  around  which  perhaps  the  ashes  of  its  former 
masters  reposed  in  state,  or  by  the  gardens  of  some 
o'er- wealthy  Seneca :  "  Senecae  prsedivitis  hortis." 
.  .  .  Thus  along  each  of  the  great  roads  which 
led  to  Rome  was,  as  it  were,  a  line  of  stately 
sepulchres,  in  which  lay  the  remains  of  her  illustrious 
dead,  and  of  those  who  might  aspire  to  the  rank 
of  the  illustrious.  We  may  conjecture,  indeed, 
from  Cicero  that  even  in  his  day  the  most  famous, 
and  hallowed  by  the  most  famous  men,  was  the 
Appian  necropolis.  In  the  well-known  passage 
where  Tully  would  infer  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  from  the  greatness  of  the  older  Romans  he 


x.]         PAGAN   AND   CHRISTIAN   SEPULCHRES      259 

says  :  "  An  tu  egressus  porta  Capena,  cum  Calatini, 
Scipionum,  Serviliorum,  Metellorum  sepulchra  vides, 
miseros  putas  illos  ?  " 

One  more  extract  will  mark  the  transition  from 
Pagan  to  Christian  sepulchres,  from  the  Appian 
Way  to  the  Catacombs — will  mark,  too,  the  keen 
interest  with  which  the  writer  of  the  essay  must 
have  studied  and  contrasted  together  these  monu- 
ments of  Pagan  and  Christian  antiquity,  with  the 
world  of  associations  they  would  suggest  to  one 
whose  historical  sense  was  so  acute  : — 

But  during  the  early  Empire  appeared  in  Rome  a 
religious  community  among  whom  reverence  for  the 
dead,  a  profound  feeling  for  the  preservation  of 
the  body  in  its  integrity,  was  not  only  a  solemn 
duty  but  a  deep-rooted  passion.  The  Christians 
not  only  inherited  from  their  religious  ancestors,  the 
Jews,  the  ancient  and  immemorial  usage  of  inter- 
ment, but  this  respect  for  the  dead  was  clasped  and 
riveted,  as  it  were,  round  their  hearts  by  the  great 
crowning  event  of  their  faith.  Christ,  in  their  belief, 
had  risen  bodily  from  the  grave  ;  a  bodily  resurrec- 
tion was  to  be  their  glorious  privilege.  Some,  many 
indeed,  no  doubt  in  the  first  ages  of  Christianity 
looked  for  this  resuscitation  as  speedy,  imminent, 
almost  immediate.  Their  great  Apostle  indeed  had 
taught  a  more  sublime,  less  material  tenet ;  he  had 
spoken  of  glorified  bodies,  not  natural  bodies  :  '  Flesh 
and  blood  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
neither  doth  corruption  inherit  incorruption?  But 
the  sanctity  of  the  body  committed  to  the  earth  was 
still  rooted  in  the  very  depths  of  their  souls ;  the 
burning  of  the  dead  was  to  them  a  profanation. 
Long  before  relics  came  to  be  worshipped,  the 
mangled  and  scattered  limbs,  it  might  be,  of  the 


260  THE   CATACOMBS  [CHAP. 

confessor  or  martyr  were  a  pious  trust,  to  be 
watched  over  with  reverential  care,  to  be  preserved 
with  tender  affection.  This  feeling  is  well  described 
by  Prudentius  : 

Hinc  maxima  cura  sepulchris 
Impenditur,  hinc  resolutos 
Honor  ultimus  accipit  artus, 
Et  funeris  ambitus  ornat. 
Quidnam  tibi  saxa  cavata, 
Quid  pulchra  volunt  monumenta, 
Nisi  quod  res  creditur  illis 
Non  mortua  sed  data  somno  ? 

Cathem.,  x. 

In  these  deep-seated  feelings,  in  the  obstacle 
to  their  satisfaction  owing  to  the  law  by  which 
interment  within  the  walls  of  the  city  was  strictly 
forbidden,  originated  the  Roman  Catacombs,  which 
grew  into  an  immense  necropolis. 

Although  the  absence  of  all  gloomy  and  distress- 
ing subjects  is  the  remarkable  and  characteristic 
feature  in  the  Catacombs  of  Rome,  no  one  can 
traverse  their  long  subterranean  galleries  without 
thoughts  almost  too  overwhelm  ing  for  words.  Least 
of  all  could  my  father,  profoundly  interested  as  he 
was  in  all  the  historical  bearings  of  the  scene,  and 
of  the  light  that  it  diffused  upon  many  questions 
relating  to  early  Christian  art,  to  the  spirit  of  the 
earliest  Christian  communities.  Mingled  too  with 
absorbing  interest,  some  sad  thoughts  would  occur  ; 
for  the  journey,  so  successful  in  many  ways,  had  at 
an  early  stage  been  saddened  by  news  of  a  family 
loss,  the  death  of  my  father's  eldest  brother,  Sir 
William  Milman,  to  whom  he  was  much  attached, 
which,  letters  having  failed  to  reach  him,  was  only 


x.]  DEATH   OF   SIR   WILLIAM   MILMAN  261 

made  known  to  us  by  an  announcement  in  the  Times 
which  caught  his  eye  at  Florence. 

I  have  avoided  introducing  letters  of  private 
interest  only,  but  this  to  a  favourite  niece  may 
perhaps  be  an  admissible  exception,  as  an  element 
in  the  imperfect  delineation  of  my  father's  affectionate 
nature  : — 

FLORENCE,  September  ist,  1857. 

MY  DEAREST  MARIA, — 

We  have  received  no  letter  from  any  of  you, 
but  have  incidentally  heard,  through  the  Times,  the 
very  sad,  very  sad  news.  How  dearly  I  loved,  how 
we  all  loved,  my  good  brother  you  all  know,  and 
especially  yourself,  my  darling  niece.  Alas  that 
we  should  be  so  much  too  far  off  to  give  you  any 
consolation  besides  the  expression  of  our  fondest 
and  deepest  feelings  !  I  cannot  disguise  to  myself 
that  your  poor  father's  life  could  have  hardly  been 
much  more  than  a  life  of  suffering,  which,  however 
his  temper  might  enable  him  to  bear,  still  was  rather 
a  sore  trial,  than  much  of  the  enjoyment  of  life. 
I  trust  and  doubt  not  that  his  end  was  peaceful,  and 
that  he  is  with  those  he  loved  so  fondly  in  life.  I 
fear  to  you,  my  dearest  Maria,  the  loss  will  be  the 
heaviest,  but  you  may  at  least  comfort  yourself  with 
the  thought  that  you  have  done  all  that  a  good  and 
most  affectionate  daughter  could  do  to  alleviate  the 
pains  and  sufferings  of  his  later  years.  I  need  not 
say  that  our  house,  as  well  as  our  hearts,  will  be 
always  open  to  you  ;  and  it  is  among  the  most 
poignant  griefs  to  us  that  we  are  now  at  such  a 
distance.  In  this  I  am  sure  that  I  am  uttering  not 
only  my  own  feelings,  but  those  of  my  dear  wife. 
For  myself  I  cannot  but  be  startled  and  shaken  at 
the  loss  of  two  brothers  within  so  short  a  period, 
both,  indeed,  in  years  older  than  myself,  but  some 


262  AN   AUTUMNAL   DRIVE  [CHAP. 

time  ago  I  should  not  have  said  older  in  constitution. 
I  almost  indeed  wish  myself  back  in  England,  and 
if  I  thought  we  could  be  of  any  essential  service 
should  not  scruple  to  return.  But  as  before  this 
every  mournful  ceremony  must  be  over,  we  shall 
proceed  on  our  journey  as  we  proposed.  At  Naples 
we  shall  hope  to  hear  from  some  of  you — if  from  you, 
so  much  the  better.  We  shall  be  most  anxious  to 
hear  all  about  every  one  of  you,  of  yourself  more 
particularly.  Write  as  shortly  as  you  will  either  to 
me,  to  your  aunt,  or  to  your  friend  Arthur,  who  you 
may  be  assured  feels  as  deeply  as  any  one  the  loss 
of  one  who  has  been  to  him  so  invariably  kind,  and 
for  whose  kindness  I  was  ever  most  grateful.  Pray 
say  something  affectionate  to  William  and  Robert 
and  to  your  sister. 

Ever,  my  dearest  Maria, 

Your  very  affectionate  uncle, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

Two  or  three  days  at  Sienna,  a  few  more  at 
Florence,  a  splendid  autumnal  drive  along  the 
Riviera  di  Ponente  and  over  the  Mont  Cenis, 
brought  us  back  to  St.  Paul's  by  the  end  of 
November. 

In  the  course  of  another  tour  in  1860,  we  were 
present  at  the  performance  of  the  Passion  Play  at 
Ober-Ammergau,  of  which  my  father's  impressions 
were  given  in  a  letter  to  Dean  Stanley,*  whose 
own  account  of  it  had  appeared  in  Macmillans 
Magazine. 

Between  my  father  and  Stanley's  family  there  had 
long  been  an  intimate  friendship  ;  and  with  many 
common  sympathies  and  instincts,  the  attachment 
*  See /or/,  p.  264. 


x.]  THE  TWO   DEANS  263 

of  the  two  men  to  one  another,  marked  on  the  part 
of  the  younger  by  a  touching  and  almost  reverential 
respect  and  admiration,  grew  as  years  went  on. 
There  was  a  constant  interchange  of  views  on  all 
the  more  interesting  literary  and  ecclesiastical  ques- 
tions of  the  day,  on  men  and  things,  upon  all  of 
which  their  communications  were  absolutely  free 
and  unreserved.  And  the  bond  that  united  them 
was  still  further  strengthened  on  Stanley's  appoint- 
ment to  the  Deanery  of  Westminster,  when  the 
confidential  relations  between  the  two  Deans  became 
still  closer.  Living  at  no  great  distance  one  from 
the  other,  with,  for  London,  not  unfrequent  oppor- 
tunities of  personal  intercourse,  no  large  amount  of 
correspondence  has  survived.  Such  of  my  father's 
letters  as  he  could  find  were  on  his  death  given  to 
us  by  Dean  Stanley,  and  a  few  of  Stanley's  to  my 
father  have  been  preserved.  Some  extracts  from 
the  former  may  be  interesting,  but  they  can  only  be 
used  sparingly,  as  the  freedom  and  unstudied  haste 
with  which  they  were  evidently  indited,  while  adding 
to  their  charm,  yet  invests  them  with  a  confidential 
character  which  should  not  be  lightly  overlooked. 
Truth  to  tell,  also,  either  correspondent,  just  at  the 
most  critical  moment,  is  apt  to  become  somewhat 
illegible.  Stanley's  handwriting  was  always,  as  is 
well  known,  the  despair  of  printers'  devils.  My 
father's,  on  the  contrary,  had  only  been  spoilt  by 
much  writing  under  heavy  pressure,  aggravated, 
perhaps,  by  the  introduction  of  sharp-pointed  steel 
pens.  His  original  handwriting  was  beautifully 


264  OBER-AMMERGAU  [CHAP 

clear,  and  some  of  his  earlier  letters  might  be  taken 
as  models  of  distinct  but  rapid  penmanship. 

The  first  letter  that  I  shall  quote  gives  the  im- 
pressions already  alluded  to  of  the  Passion  Play 
at  Ober-Ammergau,  which,  as  written  before  the 
place  had  become  an  ordinary  resort  of  tourists, 
may  be  worth  preserving,  notwithstanding  the  many 
subsequent  accounts  which  have  since  appeared. 

BADGER  HALL,  SHIFNAL, 
October  \%th,  1860. 

MY  DEAR  ARTHUR  STANLEY, — 

How  was  it  that  we  never  met?  In  truth, 
we  were,  I  suspect,  just  before  you,  and  struck  off 
into  another  line.  Nothing  can  have  been  more 
prosperous  or  pleasant  than  our  tour.  I  never 
passed  through  so  much  beautiful  scenery  in  so  short 
a  time,  and  we  had  a  delightful  episode  of  art,  to 
say  nothing  of  Munich  and  Vienna,  the  Correggios 
at  Parma,  the  Morettos  at  Brescia,  the  Gaudenzio 
Ferraris  at  Vercelli.  We  were  the  week  before  you 
at  Ammergau.  I  left  word  that  a  distinguished  pro- 
fessor from  Oxford,  author  of  a  celebrated  work  on 
Palestine,  was  to  make  his  appearance  the  next 
Sunday.  I  duly  impressed  this  on  our  host,  the 
Gemeinde  Vorsteher  (Scherer),  the  Christus  of  the 
Spiel.  I  had  given  up  all  thoughts  of  the  Spiel ; 
but  the  landlord  of  the  Bairische  Hof  at  Munich, 
having  found  out  who  I  was,  and  having  been  in 
St.  Paul's,  took  the  measure  of  my  dignity  from  the 
grandeur  of  the  Cathedral,  and  wrote  to  secure  us 
rooms,  as  we  supposed,  and  tickets.  On  our  arrival 
we  found  tickets  at  our  command,  but  no  rooms, 
upon  which  the  said  excellent  personage  offered  us 
two  clean,  comfortable  rooms  in  his  own  house,  and 
we  had  the  advantage  of  making  acquaintance  with 
the  Chief  Manager  and  Protagonist,  a  quiet,  simple, 


x.]  THE  PASSION   PLAY  265 

unpretending  man,  serious,  but  not  solemn.  I  have 
read  your  account  (of  the  affiliation,  I  have  no 
doubt)  in  Macmillan.  Your  impressions  and  con- 
clusions accord  entirely  with  mine.  Nothing  can  be 
more  just  or  true.  Perhaps,  having  had  longer  and 
more  intimate  familiarity  with  theatricals  during  the 
whole  of  my  life,  I  was  more  struck  with  the  effect  of 
the  scenery,  grouping,  and  dresses  than  you  were. 
It  is  a  bold  assertion  ;  but  I  have  been  in  my  early 
days  a  constant  attendant  on  our  London  theatres 
in  their  palmiest  days  and  most  magnificent  spec- 
tacles. I  have  seen  the  operas  in  most  of  the  great 
Continental  opera-houses  ;  but  I  never  saw  anything 
so  fine  as  what  the  French  call  the  mise  en  scene, 
we  "  the  getting-up  "  of  the  play.  The  richness  and 
harmony  of  colour  in  the  dresses  (as  my  wife  said, 
reminding  us  of  the  old  Italian  pictures  of  Gentile 
di  Fabriano  and  that  school)  surpassed  anything  I 
ever  saw.  Then,  the  fulness  of  the  stage — the 
exact  number  of  the  whole  corps  dramatique,  men, 
women,  and  children,  was  four  hundred  and  twenty- 
six,  instead  of  a  few  soldiers  marching  in  and  out  to 
represent  an  army  or  host  of  attendants — above  all, 
the  simplicity  and  dignity  of  the  chorus,  in  number 
nearly  the  same,  I  should  conceive,  in  grouping 
and  mode  of  half-inimical  representation  the  exact 
counterpart  of  the  Greek  drama,  excited  wonder- 
fully my  astonishment  and  admiration.  I  do  not 
know  whether  you  heard  that  on  the  Sunday 
when  we  were  there  a  most  awful  storm  began  to 
lower  on  all  the  hilltops,  darkened  gradually,  and 
almost  at  the  moment  of  the  crucifixion  burst  upon 
us.  It  created  some  slight  confusion  and  a  brief 
delay  ;  the  rain  pelted,  then  almost  ceased,  so  that 
the  drama  went  on  to  its  close.  There  was  some 
difficulty  in  keeping  down  the  umbrellas,  but  even 
that  was  almost  entirely  effected  by  a  voice  of 
authority  ;  so  that  we  almost  doubted  whether  we 


266  SCRIPTURAL   DRAMAS  [CHAP. 

should  have  wished  the  storm  away.  I  long  to  talk 
the  matter  over  with  you  ;  in  the  meantime  subscribe 
fully,  or  almost  fully,  to  your  judgment  and  opinions. 
On  one  or  two  points  only  I  think  you  wrong.  You 
seem  to  imply  that  the  Christus  Patiens  was  acted. 
This,  I  think,  was  certainly  not  the  case.  It  was 
only  a  literary  effort,  part  of  the  scheme  for  super- 
seding the  heathen  classics  in  all  the  schools  by 
Christian  writings.  It  was  not  meant  to  rival 
Euripides  on  the  stage  (I  doubt  whether  the  stage 
was  open  at  Constantinople  for  the  regular  drama), 
but  to  be  read  instead  of  the  profane  tragedies.  So 
too  Grotius  wrote  only  for  men  of  letters.  Milton, 
when  meditating  his  Scriptural  dramas,  no  more 
intended  them  for  representation  than  Samson 
Agonistes.  If  you  see  the  Bishop  of  London 
before  I  do,  tell  him  that  he  had  the  full  credit 
of  having  been  there  (at  Ammergau),  and  of  having 
listened  with  much  interest  and  admiration.  The 
Dean  was  promoted  to  the  Bishopric.  ...  I  found 
a  letter  from  you  on  my  return,  which  had  not 
been  forwarded,  about  the  address  to  Maurice.  I 
am  sorry  that  my  name  did  not  appear.  I  had 
given,  as  I  thought,  ample  permission  to  the  Dean 
of  Westminster  to  sign  for  me  whatever  he  would 
sign, 

Yours  ever  most  truly, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 


XL]  RELIGIOUS  CONTROVERSY  267 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Bishop  Colenso  Defence  Fund — Religion  and  Science — Notes 
on  Antagonism  between — Letters  to  Stanley — To  Sir  Charles 
Lyell — Motion  in  Convocation  for  Abolition  of  "  State  Services  " 
— Honorary  Professor  of  Ancient  Literature  at  Royal  Academy, 
etc. 

THE  two  decades  between  1850  and  1870  were 
years  of  continuous  controversy  and  unrest 
in  the  Church  of  England,  men's  minds,  especially 
clerical  minds,  being  much  exercised  by  the 
publication  of  the  Oxford  "  Essays  and  Reviews," 
by  Bishop  Colenso's  disquisitions  on  the  Pentateuch, 
by  Mr.  Maurice's  views  upon  the  eternity  of  punish- 
ment, and  other  thorny  questions  arising  out  of 
them. 

In  the  angry  disputes  of  the  time  my  father 
took  no  part.  The  whole  bent  of  his  mind  was 
oppugnant  to  controversy.  To  some  he  might  seem 
to  have  reached  "  a  purer  air";  but  against  injustice, 
against  every  attempt  to  set  bounds  to  honest 
enquiry,  he  was  ever  ready  to  protest. 

Strange  fact  [he  used  to  say]  that  the  Lord's 
Supper,  which  ought  to  have  been  the  com- 
munion of  all  true  Christians  with  Christ,  and  of 
all  true  Christians  with  each  other,  should  be  the 


268  COLENSO   DEFENCE  FUND  [CHAP. 

point  of  the  most  complete  disunion,  the  subject 
of  the  bitterest  controversy  and  most  implacable 
hate. 

His  letters  are  full  of  allusions  to  what  he  held  to 
be  the  unwise  and  unjust  nature  of  the  proceedings 
which  were  taken  against  some  of  the  authors  of 
" Essays  and  Reviews"  and  others;  and  his  name, 
much  as  he  differed  from  Colenso's  conclusions, 
lightly  as  he  esteemed  his  judgment  and  learning,  is 
among  those  of  the  very  few  men  of  eminence  in 
the  Church  who  subscribed  to  the  Bishop  Colenso 
Defence  and  Testimonial  Fund.  His  reasons 
for  doing  so  are  thus  stated ;  they  will  explain 
his  position  in  the  matter  and  the  remarks  which 
were  made  upon  it : — 

i.  Because,  although  I  strongly  doubt  his  prin- 
ciples, and  entirely  repudiate  very  many  of  the 
conclusions  of  Bishop  Colenso's  Biblical  criticism, 
I  cannot,  in  the  interests  of  true  religion,  consent 
to  proscribe,  or  to  restrict,  the  full,  free,  serious 
investigation  into  the  origin,  authenticity,  authority, 
above  all  the  interpretation,  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures. 

ii.  Because  the  condemnation  of  Bishop  Colenso 
has  been  generally  based  on  a  theory  of  Biblical 
inspiration  in  my  judgment  not  authorized  by 
the  Scripture  itself;  in  its  rigour  only  of  late 
dominance  or  acceptance  in  the  Church  ;  in  no  way 
whatever  asserted  in  the  Formularies  or  Articles 
of  the  Church  of  England  ;  fatal,  as  I  truly  believe 
it,  to  the  lasting  authority  and  influence  of  the 
Bible  ;  inevitably  leading  to  endless  difficulties  and 
contradictions  ;  in  perilous  and  unnecessary  conflict 
with  the  science  and  with  the  discoveries  of  our  times ; 
making  it  impossible  to  reconcile  and  harmonize  the 


XL]  REASONS   FOR   SUBSCRIBING  269 

spirit  of  the  Old  Testament  with  the  spirit  of  the 
New. 

iii.  Because  the  general  tone  towards  Bishop 
Colenso  has  been  hasty,  harsh,  unreasoning,  re- 
pellent, rather  than  gentle,  argumentative,  con- 
ciliatory— tending  to  drive  him,  as  I  fear  has  been 
the  case,  into  more  and  more  extreme  opinions, 
making  any  mutual  understanding  and  approxima- 
tion almost  impossible,  provoking  him  to  more 
confirmed  hostility,  instead  of  inducing  him  to  a 
calm  consideration  of  all  the  bearings  and  con- 
sequences of  his  views  and  of  his  own  peculiar 
position. 

iv.  Because  it  seems  to  me — I  write  this  with 
profound  reluctance,  from  my  unfeigned  respect  and 
esteem  for  some  who  are  concerned  in  the  pro- 
ceeding (Dr.  Colenso  being  the  lawful,  ordained, 
and  consecrated  Bishop  of  Natal) — unjust,  or  at  all 
events  a  very  unworthy  course,  to  endeavour,  by 
withholding  his  stipulated  maintenance,  to  starve 
him  into  the  surrender  of  an  office  to  which  he 
may  think  himself  conscientiously  bound  to  adhere ; 
from  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  which  he 
may  think  that  he  has  no  right  to  release  himself, 
especially  after  the  decision  of  the  high  legal 
tribunals  that  the  act  by  which  he  was  declared 
deprived  or  deposed  was  one  of  usurped  and  unlaw- 
ful authority. 

v.  Because,  from  a  careful  investigation  of  the 
statements  and  documents  produced  by  Bishop 
Colenso  (being  confident  that  he  is  a  man  of  the 
strictest  veracity),  I  cannot  but  think  that,  by  the 
influence  he  has  obtained  over  the  minds  and 
affections  of  many  among  the  heathen  with  whom 
he  came  in  contact,  through  his  familiarity  with 
their  language,  study  of  their  manners  and  modes 
of  thought,  and  the  general  tone  of  his  intercourse, 
he  has  been  successful  and  has  advanced  further  in 


270  A   DILEMMA  [CHAP. 

the  holy  office  of  civilizing  and  Christianizing  the 
heathen  than  has  been  the  case  with  most  of  our 
Missionaries.  I  should  deeply  regret  if  the  experi- 
ment of  his  manner  of  dealing  with  these  tribes 
should  not  have  a  fair  trial,  but  should  be  brought 
to  an  abrupt  termination. 

Between  religion  and  science  there  could,  in  my 
father's  opinion,  be  no  real  antagonism.  Their 
apparent  antagonism  was  unhappily  undeniable,  and 
with  thoughts  for  their  reconcilement  his  mind  was 
occupied  to  the  end  of  his  life.  To  Sir  Charles 
Lyell,  one  of  his  oldest  and  dearest  friends,  he 
wrote  as  follows  : — 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

April  4//fc,  1862. 

MY  DEAR  LYELL, — 

What  say  you  to  this  dilemma  as  to  the 
Scriptural  geologists?  It  seems  to  me  rather  a 
puzzler.  Many  writers,  from  Mr.  Granville  Penn 
to  Dr.  McCaul,  have  asserted  and  endeavoured  to 
prove  the  cosmogony  in  the  Book  of  Genesis  to  be 
anticipative  of  and,  rightly  interpreted,  in  perfect 
accordance  with  modern  discoveries  in  astronomy 
and  geology.  The  difficulty  seems  to  me  insuper- 
able. Either  the  writer  (suppose  Moses)  understood 
the  full  signification  of  all  these  words  and  images, 
or  he  did  not.  If  he  did,  he  was  consciously  or 
unconsciously  a  premature  Newton,  Cuvier,  Lyell  ; 
and  this  without  any  advantage  to  mankind,  for 
no  one  for  four  or  five  thousand  years  after  was 
the  wiser  for  his  prophetic  knowledge.  If  he  did 
not,  the  Almighty  inspired  into  his  mind  words 
utterly  without  meaning,  which  he  himself  wanted 
knowledge  to  interpret  even  to  himself —  an 
enigmatic  yet  pregnant  oracle,  of  which  the  key 


XL]  THE   CENTRAL  TRUTH  271 

was  not  to  be  discovered  till  the  nineteenth 
century  after  Christ.  Down  to  that  time  it  was 
not  and  could  not  be  understood,  or  rather  must 
have  been  misunderstood,  by  all  the  successive 
generations  of  mankind.  For  my  part  I  am  content 
with  the  sublime  central  truth,  the  Unity  and  the 
Creative  Power  of  God.  It  is  this  truth  which,  in 
the  highly  imaginative  form  in  which  it  was  con- 
veyed, and  on  account  of  that  form  stamped  itself 
on  the  thought  and  memory  of  man,  lived  through 
ages,  and,  when  obscured,  constantly  appealed  again 
to  the  recognition  and  belief  of  mankind.  This, 
I  apprehend,  is  the  conclusion  in  which  the  un- 
reflective  mind  has  rested  habitually,  contentedly. 
To  this  the  reflective  mind  reverts  with  perfect 
satisfaction,  as  a  refuge  from  the  conflicting,  mutually 
destructive,  theories  of  those  who  have  been  con- 
stantly labouring  to  harmonize  the  language  in 
which  this  truth  is  enveloped  with  the  changing 
state  of  knowledge  in  their  own  day. 

Ever,  my  dear  Lyell,  most  truly  yours, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

Sir  Charles  Lyell  answers  : — 

I  see  no  escape  from  the  dilemma  you  have  put, 
and  hope  you  will  force  some  of  them  to  acknow- 
ledge it ;  for  it  is  too  bad,  after  what  was  gone 
through  by  the  astronomers,  that  in  geology  we 
should  have  the  same  stand  made  in  favour  of  a 
revelation  in  science.  But  the  pre-Adamite  heresy 
will  soon  cast  into  the  shade  all  difficulties  about 
the  age  of  the  world  before  the  advent  of  man  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  monster  of 
more  hideous  mien  looming  in  the  future,  in  com- 
parison with  which  the  doctrine  of  pre-Adamites  is 
orthodoxy  itself.  I  allude,  of  course,  to  the  Lamarckian 
and  Darwinian  theory  of  the  origin  of  species,  which, 
so  long  as  I  thought  it  visionary,  I  thought  amusing 


272  EXTREME   VIEWS  [CHAP. 

enough,  but  which,  now  that  I  have  grown  more 
familiar  with  its  face  and  think  it  so  probable  that 
it  must  be  endured,  I  by  no  means  find  more 
welcome. 

Extreme  and  unauthorized  views  upon  the  literal 
inspiration  of  the  Bible  on  the  one  hand,  the 
intolerant  and  contemptuous  dogmatism  of  the 
modern  German  school  of  criticism  on  the  other 
hand,  being,  as  my  father  believed,  responsible  for 
much  of  the  assumed  oppugnancy  between  religion 
and  science,  it  seemed  to  him  that  it  would  be  well 
to  set  them  face  to  face,  to  examine  carefully  and 
dispassionately  the  facts  upon  which  they  were  at 
issue,  the  facts  upon  which  it  might  at  the  end 
appear  that  there  was  internecine,  unapproachable 
enmity.  A  few  extracts  from  the  very  rough  notes 
for  what  was  evidently  intended  to  have  been  an 
article  on  the  subject  will  show  the  direction  in 
which  his  mind  was  working,  and  even  in  their 
unfinished  state  may  suggest  the  line  of  argument 
which  would  have  been  pursued  under  the  former 
of  these  heads,  those  under  the  latter  being  too 
imperfect  for  citation  : — 

It  is  clear  that,  as  to  the  moral  truths  of  religion, 
there  is  no  such  collision,  no  such  antagonism. 
The  profoundest  men  of  science  may  be  the  most 
virtuous  as  well  as  the  wisest  of  mankind.  A 
Herschel  or  a  Faraday,  while  ranging  the  heavens 
to  unfold  the  wonders  of  astronomy,  or  tracing  the 
most  subtle  law  of  chemistry,  finds  no  impediment 
to  the  unimpeachable  practice  of  all  the  domestic 
and  social  excellencies. 


XL]  EXTENSION   OF   KNOWLEDGE  273 

The  primary  difficulty  which  arises  out  of  the 
expansion  of  human  scientific  knowledge  is  the 
relative  smallness  and  insignificance  to  which  man- 
kind has  dwindled  down  among  the  works  of 
creation.  The  individual  man,  the  race  of  man, 
his  powers,  the  period  of  his  mortal  existence,  the 
space  he  occupies  upon  the  planet  which  is  his 
dwelling,  the  planet  itself  as  contrasted  with  the 
extent  of  the  worlds  around  it — extent  which,  after 
heaping  numbers  upon  numbers  till  they  have  lost 
all  distinct  meaning,  he  finds  still  receding  to  an 
utterly  unattainable  limit  :  all  this  seems  to  rebuke 
the  presumptuous  religion  which  would  suppose 
mankind,  the  individual  man,  to  be  the  special 
and  peculiar  care  (the  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures, 
a  doctrine  without  which  for  ages  Scripture  would 
have  been  meaningless)  of  the  Providence  which 
created  and  still  sustains  this  illimitable  and  still 
expanding  universe — this  cosmos  wherein  every 
new  discovery  reveals  new  provinces,  and  leads 
to  the  notion  that  these  provinces  can  never  be 
brought  under  the  cognizance  of  the  human 
mind.  .  .  . 

But  to  this  depressing,  abasing,  it  might  be  said 
crushing  sense  of  the  smallness,  the  minuteness, 
of  the  individual  man,  of  the  whole  race  of  man- 
kind, there  opposes  itself  a  sort  of  consolatory 
and  redeeming  consciousness  of  the  wonderful 
powers  which  have  grasped  and  wielded  these 
discoveries.  It  is  the  human  mind  which  has 
reduced  mankind  to  this  miserable  insignificance 
by  unfolding  the  limitless  wonders  of  creation  ;  it 
is  the  one  helpless  man,  liable  to  all  the  infirmities 
of  his  brethren,  his  life  but  a  span,  the  Galileo, 
the  Newton  .  .  . 

"  It  is  the  race  of  the  successors  of  these  great 
men  who  have  gone  on  sounding  the  unfathomable 
depths,  and  who,  if  they  have  found  no  bottom, 

18 


274  THEOLOGY   AND    SCIENCE  [CHAP. 

have  taken  the  dimensions  of  our  sun  (our  sun  at 
best  but  one  of  countless  suns,  each  with  its  solar 
system),  have  submitted  the  secret  of  its  light  to 
the  analysis  of  the  spectrum." 

The  history  of  the  successive  collisions  of  science 
with  doctrines  supposed  to  rest  on  the  authority  of 
Scripture  has  been  often  told  in  recent  years — most 
recently  and  very  ably  by  Mr.  Andrew  Dickson 
White  in  his  "  Warfare  of  Science  and  Theology." 
Some  pregnant  memoranda  on  this  part  of  the 
subject  may  therefore  be  passed  over,  and  the  few 
remaining  citations  will  have  reference  to  the  belief 
on  which  the  arguments  on  the  theological  side  have 
been  founded,  in  the  indefeasible  authority  of  the 
Scriptures,  not  on  questions  concerning  religion  only, 
but  on  all  questions. 

It  is  curious  that  the  assertors  of  the  acceptance 
of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  as  they  are  now  read  as  the 
one  indefeasible  authority  according  to  their  strict 
literal  interpretation  in  all  questions  on  which  they 
touch,  whether  religious,  historical,  or  even  scientific, 
and  those  who  use  the  extreme  licence  of  the  critical 
school  in  arguing  the  age,  authenticity,  authorship, 
of  the  different  books  from  the  internal  evidence, 
especially  of  their  language,  continuous  or  varying, 
the  use  of  certain  terms  and  titles  (the  Elohim,  for 
instance,  and  Jehovah),  proceed  on  precisely  the 
same  grounds,  assume  the  same  facts,  accept  in  the 
fullest  sense  the  integrity  of  the  existing  text.  To 
the  first  it  should  seem  that  to  an  inspiration  of 
primary  dictation  must  be  added  an  inspiration  of 
perpetual  conservation,  and  that  of  the  most  jealous 
and  rigid  kind.  During  the  many  centuries  between 


XL]  THE   TEXT   OF   SCRIPTURE  275 

the  life  of  Moses  and  the  completion  of  the  canon  of 
the  Old  Testament,  the  books,  especially  the  earlier 
books,  must  have  been  preserved  either  by  the 
endowment  of  the  original  manuscript  with  an 
imperishable  vitality,  superior  to  decay,  accident, 
injury,  and  this  through  centuries  of  confusion  and 
anarchy,  before  the  nation  possessed  a  capital  or 
acknowledged  centre  of  unity,  before  the  recogni- 
tion, as  should  seem,  of  any  class  or  order  whose 
office  and  duty  it  was  to  watch  over  their  inviola- 
bility during  the  separation  and  hostility  of  the 
tribes  after  the  death  of  Solomon  ;  or  they  must 
have  been  perpetuated  by  a  constant  succession  of 
transcribers  more  or  less  trustworthy,  with  a  know- 
ledge of  and  reverence  for  the  original  archaic 
language  which  would  admit  of  no  change  or  varia- 
tion or  modification  either  from  silent  and  imper- 
ceptible changes  in  the  religious  notions,  or  in  the 
forms  and  grammatical  structure  of  the  language, 
the  use  or  desuetude  of  words.  .  .  .  The  truth  is, 
that  of  the  history  of  the  transmission  of  the 
Hebrew  writings,  at  least  down  to  the  time  of 
Ezra,  we  really  know  nothing.  The  single  re- 
corded fact,  the  discovery  of  the  Law  during  the 
reign  of  Josiah,  instead  of  throwing  light  upon  the 
question,  involves  it  in  more  impenetrable  obscurity. 
What  was  this  book  ?  An  original  of  the  time  of 
Moses — an  attested  or  at  least  an  admitted  faithful 
copy  ?  Was  it  the  whole  Law,  meaning  by  the  Law 
the  five  books  of  Moses,  or  the  Law  in  its  narrower 
sense,  the  Law  of  the  theocracy,  the  civil  and  reli- 
gious statutes  of  the  nation  ;  or  was  it  the  Book  of 
Deuteronomy  ?  ...  At  a  certain  period,  a  very  late 
period,  in  Jewish  history,  there  grew  up  a  jealous, 
stern  reverence,  gradually  more  and  more  servile, 
more  and  more  superstitious,  for  the  sacred  writings, 
till  every  letter,  every  point,  every  accent,  assumed 
an  authority  which  could  not  be  impeached,  and  of 


276  THEORY  OF   INSPIRATION  [CHAP. 

which  the  scribes  and  lawyers  and  latterly  the  rabbis 
were  the  recognized  guardians.  .  .  . 

But  of  this  reverence,  this  divination,  of  every 
word,  letter,  sign,  of  the  books,  there  is  no  evidence 
whatever  in  the  books  themselves  or  in  the  history 
of  the  people,  and  there  is  very  strong  collateral 
evidence  to  the  contrary.  How,  if  there  was  this 
unimpeachable  exemplar,  from  which  it  was  sin, 
impiety,  to  depart  by  one  iota,  account  for  the  differ- 
ence of  the  Samaritan  Text  ?  Of  this  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  the  age  and  authority  does  not 
seem  to  gain  ground  with  the  investigations  of 
modern  linguistic  science.  But  the  variations  in 
the  Septuagint  appear  conclusive  against  one  holy, 
irrefragable,  authoritative  text  which  refused  to  admit 
any  variation,  any  accession  or  diminution.  .  .  . 

The  theory  of  inspiration,  as  it  is  usually  under- 
stood, rests  on  a  single  text  of  Scripture  :  "  All 
Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God."  *  This 
text  is  of  doubtful  construction,  still  more  doubtful 
meaning.  It  is,  however,  the  only  one  (see  Dr. 
Wordsworth,  passim)  alleged  as  a  clear  and 
decisive  proof  of  the  infallibility  of  inspiration  in  its 
more  strict  or  even  modified  form. 

But  there  is  another  text  which,  however,  as  it 
were,  staring  every  one  in  the  face,  is  unaccountably 
passed  over,  almost  suppressed.  In  the  preface  to 
St.  Luke's  Gospel  we  read  : 

"  Forasmuch  as  many  have  taken  in  hand  to  set 
forth  in  order  a  declaration  of  those  things  which  are 
most  surely  believed  among  us, 

"  Even  as  they  delivered  them  unto  us,  which  from 
the  beginning  were  eyewitnesses,  and  ministers  of 
the  word  ; 

"It  seemed  good  to  me  also,  having  had  perfect 
understanding  of  all  things  from  the  very  first,  to 
write  unto  thee  in  order,  most  excellent  Theophilus, 

*  In  the  Revised  Version  :  "  Every  scripture  inspired  of  God." 


x  PREFACE  TO  ST.  LUKE'S  GOSPEL          277 

"  That  thou  mightest  know  the  certainty  of  those 
things,  wherein  thou  hast  been  instructed." 

Now  here  there  is  not  the  slightest  claim,  not  the 
lightest  allusion,  to  inspiration,  to  Divine  impulse, 
to  Divine  direction.  It  is  much  as  if  die  author  of 
a  new  history  of  England  or  of  France  should  say, 
••  There  are  many  histories  of  our  country,  but  I 
have  determined  to  try  whether  I  cannot  write 
another  at  least  as  satisfactory  and  trustworthy." 
But  if  the  Evangelist  was  conscious  that  he  was 
writing  under  Divine  influence  or  with  Divine 
authority,  is  it  conceivable  that  he  should,  as  it 
were,  thus  underrate  his  own  work — that  he  should 
give  as  his  own  what  in  fact  was  God's  ? 

But  this  goes  much  further  if,  when  St.  Luke 
wrote,  there  was  one  or  more  inspired  Gospel  of 
which  every  word  was  infallible,  dictated  by  the 
unerring  Spirit  of  God.  Would  he  not  have  sub- 
mitted in  humble  deference  to  the  superior  authority 
of  such  a  work — would  he  not  have  spoken  more 
modestly  of  his  own,  for  which  he  assumed  no  such 
authority — would  he  have  ventured  to  repeat  that 
which  was  already  related  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and, 
if  he  did  not  think  it  presumptuous  to  write  at 
all,  would  he  not  have  given  notice  to  his  readers 
that  his  own  was  a  work  of  subordinate  and  less 
authoritative  character?  If  his  work  was  Divine, 
the  dictate  of  the  infallible  Spirit  of  God,  why  leave 
it  without  the  seal  and  testimony  to  his  unerring 
accuracy?  If  it  were  not  Divine,  why  compete 
with  those  that  were?  .  .  . 

But  the  critical  school  must  submit  to  criticism. 
It  ought  not  to  complain  if  that  criticism  is  of  the 
most  severe,  searching,  and  sceptical  character.  We 
want  an  Ewald  to  criticise  an  Ewald. 

A  few  more  letters  with  no  strict  adherence  to 
chronological  order  may  now  find  their  place. 


278  AIDS   TO   FAITH  [CHAP. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

October  2gth,  1862. 

MY  DEAR  ARTHUR  STANLEY, — 

The  sermons  are  excellent  for  their  fitness. 
It  was  a  most  difficult  task.  .  .  .  Many  thanks  for 
the  volume.  I  have  read  too  with  much  interest 
the  article  in  Fraser  s  Magazine  [on  "  Aids  to 
Faith"].  It  was  of  course  intended  for  the  Times. 
But  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  it  was  issued 
at  the  time  and  from  the  quarter  in  which  it 
appeared.  If  any  shot  can  be  fired  without  effect, 
it  would  be  from  an  August  number  of  a  magazine. 
In  August  all  the  world  is  away,  the  universities 
dispersed,  the  clubs  deserted,  all  English  manhood 
on  foreign  railroads,  climbing  the  Alps — with  one 
study  alone,  their  Murray.  Can  it  not  be  reframed 
and  reissued  on  some  other  occasion  ?  The  Second 
Book  of  Samuel  ?  I  borrowed  your  most  happy 
title  the  other  day.  It  threw  Murray  off"  his  guard, 
and  he  had  not  a  word  of  his  usual  prudential 
affectation  of  ignorance  or  clever  fencing  off"  of 
such  questions.  I  added,  "  I  presume  that  the 
appropriate  text  brings  it  home  to  Samuel :  '  He 
hewed  Agag  in  pieces  before  the  Lord.' '  Can  we 
have  a  better  or  clearer  prefiguration  of  a  slashing 
theological  argument  ?  For  Agag  read  Jowett  or 
Williams.  I  have  no  doubt  you  have  read  Grote's 
(of  Cambridge)  dissection  of  Lushington's  judgment. 
It  is  dry,  difficult,  hard,  but  to  me  perfectly  con- 
clusive. I  cannot  think  the  judgment  can  stand. 
It  is  fortunate,  perhaps,  that  the  concessions  he 
makes  are  so  much  clear  gain  ;  while,  if  his  active 
decrees  are  overset,  as  overset  I  think  they  must 
be,  the  whole  case  will  be  decided  against  Samuel 
and  Sarum.  But  I  fear  that  Colenso  will  neutralize 
your  irenicon,  and  plunge  us  into  internecine  war. 
The  subject  is  too  long  to  write  about.  Colenso 
made  great  attempts  to  force  himself  upon  me ;  but 
I  heard  so  much  from  authoritative  quarters  of  his 


XL]  THE   SECOND   BOOK   OF   SAMUEL  279 

strange  conduct  in  his  diocese,  where  he  was  at  war 
with  every  class,  clergy,  Boers,  colonists  (who  broke 
his  windows),  that  I  fought  very  shy.  As  my  book 
was  coming  out,  in  which  I  find  that  there  are  some 
things,  especially  about  the  chronology  and  the 
numbers,  in  which  I  have  been  always  with  him, 
though  not  arriving  at  the  same  conclusions,  I 
thought  it  was  much  better  that  no  one  should 
even  suspect  any  common  understanding.  I  am 
sorry  for  his  publication.  The  preface  is  the  best 
part,  and  there  is  something  very  striking  in  the 
difficulties  of  his  Zulus.  But  I  fear  that  the  man 
is  not  well  advised,  and  will  bring  odium  instead  of 
strength  to  liberal  opinions.  I  shall  read  the  rest 
of  his  book,  which  Longman  brought  to  me  yesterday. 
After  all  his  excuses  one  cannot  but  feel  very  strongly 
that  such  a  book  should  not  come  from  a  missionary 
bishop.  He  is  too,  as  I  hear,  to  a  certain  extent 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Bishop  of  Capetown, 
a  worthy  and  amiable,  but  one  of  the  smallest  and 
narrowest  of  men.  I  foresee  much  mischief  and 
little  good.  In  your  estimate  of  the  Second  Book 
of  Samuel  I  fully  agree  with  you.  We  want  a 
theological  Huxley  to  pin  his  Lordship  down  to 
strict  logic  and  fair  inference.  But  he  knows  to 
whom  and  for  whom  he  writes.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  half  the  parsonages  in  England  are  ringing 
with  wonder  at  the  overpowering  eloquence,  pro- 
found thought,  wide  learning  (he  should  leave 
Lessing  and  Hegel  alone),  as  well  as  at  the  final 
coup-de-grace  of  the  unhappy  Essayists.  Are  you 
likely  to  be  in  London  ?  I  should  so  much  like 
a  talk  about  Colenso,  etc. 

Ever  most  sincerely, 

H.   H.  MILMAN. 

You  have  heard  no  doubt,  as  I  have  with  deep 
regret,  about  Maurice.  What  a  strange,  perverse, 
noble,  unaccountable,  intractable,  right- hearted,  and 


280  CONVOCATION  [CHAP. 

wrong-headed  man  it  is  !  I  fear  he  is  unpersuadable, 
and  all  about  Colenso,  who  has  behaved  exceedingly 
ill  to  him. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

February  2btk,  1863. 

MY  DEAR  ARTHUR  STANLEY, — 

I  must  not,  dare  not,  venture  to  Convocation. 
Of  all  places  for  catching  cold,  the  Jerusalem  Chamber 
and  its  precincts  are  the  worst.  Nor,  if  there  is  a  fray, 
could  I  keep  out  of  it ;  yet  I  want  vigour  to  play  any 
important  part,  and  ought  not  to  overexert  myself. 
I  presume  that  you  are  anxious  to  test  one  of  your 
Christian  virtues  (patience),  and  therefore  wish  to 
be  present  at  a  debate.  Your  curiosity,  I  expect, 
will  be  glutted.  I  hope,  if  Golfius  (Jelf)  persists 
in  his  motion,  that  some  one  will  move  the  previous 
question,  on  the  broad  principle  that  the  censure 
of  books  is  the  last  function  which  Convocation 
would  be  wise  to  resume.  It  is  the  question  on 
which  of  old  it  burnt  its  fingers.  One  of  the  last 
books  which  it  decided  to  condemn,  "  Burnet  on 
the  Articles,"  is  now  the  standard  authority  at  both 
Universities.  If  I  remember  right,  it  was  on  this 
question  that  Convocation  was  finally  laid  on  the 
shelf.  If  this  is  the  issue  in  the  present  case,  I 
shall  see  some  good  in  the  movement. 

Ever  most  truly  yours, 

H.   H.  MILMAN. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

November  2$th,  1863. 

MY  DEAR  ARTHUR  STANLEY, — 

Alas !  since  you  dined  here  I  have  been 
confined  almost  entirely  to  my  bed.  Thank  God, 
I  am  now  in  a  fair  way  of  recovery,  but  must  be 
very  cautious.  It  was  an  attack  of  cold  and  in- 
sidious gout,  much  like  that  under  which  I  suffered 
three  years  ago.  I  have  begun  to  correct  the 


xi.]        STANLEY  LEAVES  OXFORD       281 

sheets  of  the  "  Latin  Christianity,"  and  shall  be  glad 
of  the  note  upon  Canossa.  As  busy  as  you  may 
be  in  one  way  now,  you  will  be  happy  indeed  next 
month.  Of  course  I  have  not  seen  and  have  had 
no  communication  with  my  Westminster  friends. 
I  greatly  wished  to  have  brought  you  and  Lord 
John  Thynne  together.  Who  is  to  be  your 
successor  ?  Whom  do  you  wish  for  ?  The  more 
I  think  upon  it,  the  more  am  I  perplexed  and 
alarmed.  Your  removal  will  throw  us  (Oxonians) 
back  for  twenty  years.  I  am  rejoiced  for  your 
sake,  sad  for  the  University?  "  Hoc  Ithacus  velit 
(sly  S.)  et  magno  mercentur  Atridae."  Pusey  and 
the  High  Church  :  they  will  even  bear  your  pro- 
motion with  complacency.  Have  you  had  time 
to  look  at  Thirlwall — ipsissimus — the  cold  subtle 
analysis,  the  skilful  steering  out  of  the  way  of  all 
the  perilous  rocks,  and  at  the  end  the  sudden  smash 
of  the  Lower  House  of  Convocation  ?  I  should 
like  to  see  George  Denison's  face  as  he  reads  it. 
A  copy  of  the  "  History  of  Christianity  "  awaits  your 
order  at  Murray's.  I  doubted  where  to  send  it, 
as  I  know  by  experience  the  worry  of  library 
flittings. 

Ever,   with    most   earnest  good-wishes   for   your 
happiness, 

Yours  truly  and  affectionately, 

H.    H.    MlLMAN. 

DEANERY,  ST.  PAUL'S, 

April  2\st,  1867. 

MY  DEAR  DEAN  OF  WESTMINSTER, — 

"  Ritualism  "  is  excellent.*  I  do  not  know 
that  you  have  written  on  any  subject  with  greater 
force  and  power,  and  the  tone  courageous  and 
at  the  same  time  candid.  What  will  be  the  effect  ? 

*  An  article  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  afterwards  reprinted  in 
"  Essays  on  Church  and  State." 


282  RITUALISM  [CHAP. 

Will  the  "  orthodox"  admit  your  aid  and  quietly 
put  by  the  admonitions  to  themselves  ?  As  for 
the  Ritualists,  argument  is  thrown  away  upon 
them ;  and  they  are  too  serious  for  ridicule,  or 
else  one  almost  longs  for  a  page  or  two  of  good 
old  Sydney.  After  all  I  should  like  to  see  this 
view  worked  out.  Is  not  the  whole  a  veritable 
reaction  from  the  plethora  of  preaching,  which  has 
ruined  the  constitution  of  the  clergy  in  general, 
and  caused  a  surfeit  in  the  mass  of  our  congrega- 
tions ?  It  exhausts  prematurely  the  intellect — where 
there  is  intellect — of  the  young  clergy.  You  take  a 
man  of  twenty-three,  unread,  and  the  more  assuming 
because  unread,  and  put  him,  perhaps,  into  a  "Peel" 
Church,  with  three  services,  to  preach  about  a 
hundred  and  fifty  sermons  a  year.  The  consequence 
is  that  you  may  count  on  your  fingers  the  really 
good  and  effective  preachers  in  the  Church.  On 
the  other  hand,  your  congregations  are  growing  in 
intelligence.  They  read  six  or  (by  our  Lady) 
seven  days  in  the  week  newspaper  articles  much 
better  written  than  most  sermons.  What  are  the 
poor  young  clergy  to  do  ?  They  are  almost  driven 
into  utter  ceremonialism.  In  the  first  place  (do 
not  be  shocked  at  my  profaneness)  they  have  a 
rival  Church,  and  "  minor  theatres  "  always  attract 
by  melodrama.  Then,  in  their  poverty,  conscious 
of  wearing  a  shabby  black  coat  in  the  streets,  no 
wonder  they  like  to  wrap  themselves  in  splendid 
attire  in  the  church.  Human  vanity,  in  the  form 
of  clerical  dandyism,  will  find  its  way  into  the 
holiest  sanctuary.  Further  than  this,  undistinguished 
(however  good,  active,  and  zealous  they  may  be), 
poor,  hardly  able  to  keep  their  place  in  society, 
can  we  wonder  that  they  invest  themselves  in  their 
priestly  dignity,  and  are  tempted  to  console  them- 
selves for  their  inferiority  in  most  respects  by 
assuming  the  belief  in  their  sacerdotal  superiority  ? 


XL]  UNENDOWED   CHURCHES  283 

It  is  certainly  curious,  as  far  as  my  narrow  know- 
ledge extends,  that  there  does  not  seem  one  man 
of  real  power  or  eminence  among  them.  It  is  a 
sect,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  without  leaders  or  heads. 
How  different  from  the  Oxford  Movement,  with 
Newman,  Pusey,  Manning,  Oakeley,  Faber,  very 
different  men,  but  all  with  some  pretensions  to 
distinction!  Enough,  perhaps  too  much,  of  this  ; 
but  I  should  like  to  see  the  idea  followed  out. 
Ever  most  truly  yours, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 


This  letter  was  obviously  not  intended  to  do 
more  than  touch  upon  one  aspect  of  the  question, 
than  suggest  topics  for  consideration  upon  the 
subject  of  the  Dean  of  Westminster's  article.  My 
father  did,  I  know,  regard  with  some  anxiety  the 
multiplication  of  unendowed  or  scantily  endowed 
livings,  but  no  one  would  be  more  sensible  than 
he  was  of  the  self-sacrificing  zeal  with  which  the 
work  of  Christ's  Church  was  carried  on  in  the  very 
poorest  and  most  forsaken  parts  of  London  by  men 
of  highest  character  and  education,  who,  in  a  worldly 
sense,  had  everything  to  lose  and  nothing  to  gain, 
and  whose  "  Ritualism  "  in  the  midst  of  such  sordid 
surroundings  was  itself,  to  put  it  on  no  other 
ground,  a  shadowing  forth  of  things  orderly  and 
beautiful,  the  introduction  of  some  slight  element 
of  poetry  into  lives  sunk  under  the  weight  of 
monotonous  labour  and  the  hard-fought  struggle 
for  bare  subsistence. 

The  next  letter  is  to  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  whose 
liberality  and  ardent  love  of  justice  always  placed 


284  BISHOP   COLENSO  [CHAP. 

him  on  the  side  of  those  whom  he  considered  to 
have  been  persecuted  or  unfairly  treated  for  con- 
science' sake,  and  who  had  besides  a  sincere 
personal  regard  for  Bishop  Colenso  : — 

QUEEN'S  LODGE,  ASCOT,  June  2$rd. 
MY  DEAR  LYELL, — 

I  return  the  Bishop's  paper.  If  I  formed 
my  opinion  of  Colenso  from  such  statements  alone, 
I  should  have  but  a  low  estimate  of  his  knowledge 
and  powers  of  reasoning.  They  are,  in  my 
judgment,  puerile,  hardly  ingenious,  hardly  in- 
genuous. He  does  not  seem  to  me  to  understand 
the  bearing  and  importance  of  the  subject.  But 
I  do  not  judge  Colenso  on  such  grounds.  I  honour 
him  as  a  bold,  honest,  single-minded  man,  with  a 
deep  and  sincere  love  of  truth.  He  is  a  man,  too, 
of  remarkably  acute  intellect  and  indefatigable 
industry.  But  he  entered  on  these  enquiries  late 
in  life,  struck  boldly  into  one  track,  in  which  he 
marches  with  fearless  intrepidity,  looking  neither 
to  the  right  nor  to  the  left.  Moreover,  he  wants 
wide  and  general  knowledge.  He  rides  his  hobby 
with  consummate  skill,  but  he  rides  it  to  death. 
Everything  must  give  way  before  his  Jehovistic 
and  Elohistic  theory.  Now,  I  fully  believe  in  that 
to  a  certain  limit,  but  not  in  its  application  to  all 
the  writings  of  the  Old  Testament  (as  we  have 
them) ;  for  I  am  a  worse  sceptic  than  Colenso, 
doubting  whether  we  have  them  in  unaltered, 
unimpeachable  integrity.  I  believe  the  whole  of 
Colenso's  theory  about  the  development  of  the 
Jewish  religion  to  be  all  pure  conjecture  and  from 
(to  me)  most  unsatisfactory  premises.  As  history, 
much  of  the  German  criticism,  as  well  as  his,  is 
purely  arbitrary :  doubtful  conclusions  from  more 
doubtful  facts.  None  of  this,  however,  in  the  least 
lowers  my  respect  for  Colenso,  and  my  sense  of 


xi.]  COLENSO'S  SERMONS  285 

his  ill  usage  by  persons  to  whom  his  knowledge 
is  comparatively  the  widest,  his  ignorance  much 
more  trustworthy  than  their  knowledge.  As  for 
his  piety,  I  have  read  some  and  intend  to  read 
more  of  his  sermons.  None  of  his  adversaries, 
of  course,  read  them.  If  they  did,  it  might  put 
even  them  to  shame,  especially  as  contrasted  with 
their  cold,  dry  dogmatism. 

Ever  most  truly  yours, 

H.  H.  MILMAN. 

Our  love  to  you  both.  When  do  you  come  and 
see  us  ?  After  next  week  ?  Is  Colenso  right  in 
trying  to  disfranchise  the  Dean  ?  It  is  difficult  for 
us  here  to  judge,  but  I  have  my  misgivings. 

With  one  more  interchange  of  letters  between 
my  father  and  Stanley  these  extracts  must  close  : — 

QUEEN'S  HILL  LODGE,  ASCOT, 

July  2$th,  1867. 
MY  DEAR  BROTHER  DEAN, — 

I  have  been  reading  with  great  amusement 
and  delight  the  "  Council  of  Constantinople."  *  It 
is  as  well  done  as  well  timed.  I  have  only  one 
fear.  If  you  remember,  Sydney's  doom  of  some 
unfortunate  wight — I  forget  who  and  on  what 
occasion — -was  to  be  hunted  to  death  by  wild 
curates.  Leave  London  before  September,  or  you 
will  be  in  danger  of  being  hunted  to  death  by 
wild  bishops.  I  hear  also  that  you  have  delivered 
yourself  on  the  question  of  submitting  all  ecclesias- 
tical matters  to  Convocation  as  well  as  Parliament. 
In  the  Guardian  ?  How  singular  it  is  that  the 
meeting  of  Convocation  for  business  should  have 
been  sanctioned  by  the  wise  and  far-seeing  George 
Lewis.  I  trust  that  he  is  not  suffering  therefor 

*  Edinburgh  Review,  cxxvi.  95. 


286  SIR   GEORGE   LEWIS  [CHAP. 

that  doom  inflicted  upon  him  by  the  malicious 
Sydney  (Sydney  Smith  again).  You  know  that 
one  of  that  worthy's  fancies  was  imagining 
"  eternal  "  punishments  for  his  friends.  George 
was  condemned  to  an  eternity  of  tapping  his 
boot  with  his  cane  ;  no  book  whatever  to  be 
permitted.  His  prayer  was,  "  Oh  for  one  little 
treatise  on  the  verbs  in  -/u ! " — his  drop  of  cold 
water.  I  fear  that  you  have  been  guilty  of  paying 
some  honour  or  in  some  place  respect  to  those  two 
unbaptized  misbelievers  the  Sultan  and  the  Viceroy. 
I,  more  orthodox  and  much  more  afraid  of  crowds, 
declined  an  invitation  to  the  City  reception.  I 
wonder  what  they  say  in  the  East,  the  Mussulman 
Puseys  and  Denisons,  the  High  Church  Ulemas  and 
Imaums,  to  this  familiar  intercourse  with  the  uncir- 
cumcised  ?  I  hope  that  the  City  did  not  betray  the 
Sultan  into  unholy  disguised  ham,  that  he  did  not 
mistake  champagne  for  sherbet,  and  did  not  at  the 
East  Indian  ball  imagine  himself  among  the  houris. 
I  have  been  looking  into  the  charge  of  good  Sarum. 
Is  it  true,  as  he  asserts,  that  the  late  Bishop  Cotton 
rested  all  his  hope  of  success  in  India  on  the  strict 
maintenance  of  the  Athanasian  Creed  ?  If  so,  I 
have  much  mistaken  my  man.  But  I  think  it 
much  more  likely  that  Sarum  should  have  mistaken 
Calcutta.  I  trust  that  we  may  have  some  hope 
of  seeing  you  in  the  interval  of  your  return  from 
vestment  enquiries  and  your  summer  travels.  With 
this  wish,  and  with  our  very  kindest  regards  to 
Lady  Augusta, 

Ever  most  truly  yours, 

H.   H.   MILMAN. 

DEANERY,  WESTMINSTER, 

July  2%th,  1867. 

MY  DEAR  DEAN  OF  ST.  PAUL'S, — 

I    am    very    glad    that    you    approve  of  the 
"  Council  of  Constantinople."     In  writing  it,  I  was 


XL]  THE   RITUAL   COMMISSION  287 

able  to  kill  several  birds  with  one  stone,  to  dis- 
charge a  promise  of  long  standing  to  an  old  and 
valued  friend  of  ours  and  of  the  de  Broglies,  to 
indulge  my  own  curiosity  for  old  ecclesiastical 
romances,  and  to  fire  another  shot  at  the  Pan- 
Anglican  Synod.  How  very  gingerly  the  usual 
writers  on  Church  History  have  dealt  with  Gregory 
Nazianzen  !  The  Ritual  Commission  will  keep  me 
here,  I  suspect,  till  the  end  of  the  session.  It  is  not 
betraying  any  of  our  secrets  to  say  that  I  feel  exactly 
as  they  describe  in  the  House  of  Commons  under 
D'Israeli — that  the  ground  is  mined  under  our  feet 
in  every  direction,  one  can  never  be  sufficiently  on 
one's  guard  against  the  most  astonishing  surprises. 
And  all  this  is  the  more  curious  because  it  is  perfectly 
unnecessary.  The  conclusion  at  which  our  necro- 
mancer is  aiming  might  be  attained  quite  as  easily 
by  direct  and  simple  courses.  But  he  seems  to  me, 
besides  all  his  other  marvellous  qualities,  to  have  a 
perfect  passion  for  conspiracy,  and  at  the  same  time 
a  perfect  unconsciousness  that  any  one  is  suspecting 
and  watching  him.  With  this  one  exception  (and 
here  it  is  only  the  means  that  are  disagreeable ; 
his  ends  hitherto  have  been  right  enough)  things 
go  on  much  more  smoothly  than  I  anticipated,  and 
I  almost  expect  that  on  the  vestment  question  we 
shall  be  nearly  unanimous.  The  ignorance  of  the 
witnesses  was  quite  surprising.  Poor  Cotton  little 
thought  how  much  use  would  be  made  of  an  unwary 
admission  whilst  urging  the  abandonment  of  the 
Athanasian  clauses ;  that  after  all  it  was  not  so 
[unbearable],  because  there  was  something  in  the 
Indian  subtleties  which  somewhat  resembled  the 
metaphysics  of  the  fifth  century.  Liddon,  who  of 
course  is  W.  K.  Sarum's  oracle,  has  already  made 
the  most  of  the  passage  in  a  sermon.  I  was  led 
into  a  series  of  letters  in  the  Guardian  of  the  last 
three  weeks  on  Convocation  because  I  thought  they 


288  THE  REVIVAL  OF   CONVOCATION        [CHAP. 

were  more  likely  to  be  read  there  than  anywhere 
else  by  those  who  most  needed  them.  It  seems  to 
me  by  far  the  most  dangerous  frenzy  which  has  got 
hold  of  the  clergy  of  late  years.  The  Sultan  never 
came  near  the  Abbey.  Indeed,  he  saw  wonderfully 
little  of  any  interest,  and  I  have  not  been  able  to 
hear  of  any  authentic  sayings. 


As  may  be  gathered  from  the  foregoing  letters, 
and  as  indeed  was  well  known,  for  my  father  made 
no  secret  of  the  matter,  he  entertained  no  high 
opinion  of  the  wisdom  or  justice  of  the  proceedings 
in  Convocation,  the  meetings  of  which  he  seldom 
attended.  The  revival  of  Convocation  for  purposes 
of  business,  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  correct  to 
say  of  debate,  fell  indeed  upon  a  trying  time,  when 
the  volume  of  "  Essays  and  Reviews "  and  the 
writings  of  Bishop  Colenso  had  struck  a  large  party 
of  the  clergy  with  a  sort  of  panic  little  calculated  to 
promote  calm  judgment,  and  opinions  which  now 
would  pass  with  little  comment  or  be  temperately 
discussed  were  hotly  assailed  as  subversive  of  reli- 
gion in  the  familiar  language  of  controversy.  From 
controversy,  especially  from  controversies  so  con- 
ducted, my  father  stood  aloof,  and  he  was  perhaps 
all  the  more  conspicuous  by  his  absence.  No 
good  could,  he  thought,  come  of  them ;  and  no 
good,  I  believe  it  would  now  be  generally  allowed, 
did  come  of  them. 

The  first  step,  however,  towards  one  really  prac- 
tical bit  of  reform,  the  discontinuance  of  what  were 
popularly  called  the  "  State  Services,"  was  due  to 


XL]  THE   STATE   SERVICES  289 

his  initiative  in  Convocation.  These  services  com- 
memorated, as  will  be  remembered,  and  in  language 
much  too  high-flown  for  modern  ideas,  the  martyrdom 
of  Charles  I.,  the  restoration  of  Charles  II.,  and  the 
discovery  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  whereby — as  a 
specimen  of  the  style — our  Church  and  State  "  were 
miraculously  preserved  from  the  secret  contrivance 
and  hellish  malice  of  Popish  conspirators."  *  My 
father  had  been  requested  by  many  of  those  who 
regarded  such  commemorations  as  out  of  date  to 
take  up  the  matter,  as  it  was  thought  that  a  proposal 
for  their  abolition  would  meet  with  less  opposition  if 
made  by  one  who  was  so  independent  and  uncon- 
nected with  any  particular  party  or  set  of  opinions. 
On  May  8th,  1857,  accordingly,  the  Dean  of  St. 
Paul's,  in  an  interesting  speech,  moved — 

That  a  petition  be  presented  to  the  Upper  House, 
praying  their  Lordships  to  consider  the  propriety  of 
presenting  an  Address  to  her  Majesty  for  the  dis- 
continuance of  the  order  requiring  the  use  of  the 
occasional  services  for  November  5th,  January  3Oth, 
and  May  29th. 

There  was  a  long  discussion  upon  the  motion,  to 
which  various  amendments  were  proposed,  by  one 
of  which  it  was  referred  to  a  committee  of  the 
House — 

to  examine  by  what  authority  the  separate  services 
for  the  above  three  days  were  drawn  up  and  are 

*  Old  students  of  Christ  Church  will  recall  the  unctuousness  with 
which  these  and  similar  sentences  fell  from  the  lips  of  an  estimable 
but  worldly  Canon. 

19 


290      HON.  PROFESSOR  AT  ROYAL  ACADEMY  [CHAP. 

appointed  to  be  read,  and  the  legal  force  which  they 
severally  possess. 

Upon  the  report  of  this  committee  and  the  Dean's 
further  notice  of  motion  thereupon  expressing  the 
undesirability  of  continuing  the  observance  of  these 
days  it  is  unnecessary  to  dwell,  as  the  question  had 
in  the  meantime  been  taken  up  in  Parliament ;  and 
eventually,  on  addresses  from  both  Houses,  presented 
to  the  Crown  in  July,  1858,  the  services  were,  by  a 
royal  warrant  of  January  i7th,  1859,  ordered  to  be 
discontinued.  The  address  in  the  House  of  Lords 
was,  it  may  be  mentioned,  moved  by  Lord  Stanhope, 
a  personal  friend  of  my  father's;  and  there  is,  I  believe, 
no  doubt  that  my  father's  initiative  had  placed  the 
subject  in  its  true  light,  and  had  facilitated  its  settle- 
ment without  any  of  the  angry  feeling  which  might 
have  otherwise  been  engendered. 

My  father's  love  of  art,  and  I  think  I  may  add  of 
artists — Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  Mr.  Richmond,  Mr. 
Westmacott,  and  others  were  included  in  his  circle 
of  intimate  friends— has  already  been  alluded  to. 
In  1857  he  served  upon  the  Royal  Commission 
appointed  to  consider  the  propriety  of  transferring 
the  National  Gallery  to  another  site.  In  1860,  a 
compliment  which  he  highly  appreciated,  he  was 
appointed  Honorary  Professor  of  Ancient  Literature 
to  the  Royal  Academy,  in  succession  to  Lord 
Macaulay.  In  1865,  too,  he  was  elected  Cor- 
respondent de  1' Academic  des  Sciences  Morales  et 
Politiques  de  1'Institut  Imperial  de  France,  his 


XL]         TRUSTEE   OF  THE   BRITISH   MUSEUM       291 

appointment  being  notified  to  him  by  the  Secretary 
of  the  Academy,  M.  Mignet.  In  the  administra- 
tion of  the  British  Museum,  of  which  he  was  one 
of  the  trustees,  he  took  an  active  interest,  and  was 
a  regular  attendant  at  the  meetings  of  the  Board, 
where  his  assistance  was,  I  have  reason  to  believe, 
much  valued.  Moving  amid  a  circle  of  attached 
friends,  occupied  with  congenial  pursuits  under  the 
shadow  of  St.  Paul's,  the  years  passed  only  too 
rapidly,  and,  in  spite  of  occasional  attacks  of  illness, 
with  no  diminution  of  mental  vigour. 


292  LOVE  OF   LITERATURE  [CHAP. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  Annals  of  St.  Paul's  "—Characterized  by  Rev.  William  Scott- 
Extracts  from — Biographical  Interest  of — Illness  and  Death 
— Funeral  at  St.  Paul's— Tributes  of  Respect  and  Affection- 
Monument  in  St.  Paul's — Inscription. 

AFTER  the  production  of  a  work  so  compre- 
hensive, so  laborious,  so  exhausting,  as  the 
4<  History  of  Latin  Christianity,"  after  the  publica- 
tion of  the  revised  edition  of  the  "  History  of  the 
Jews,"  it  might  have  been  imagined  that  Dean 
Milman  would  at  length  have  consented  to  repose. 
But  mental  inactivity  with  him  was  impossible, 
Approaching  to  the  age  of  fourscore  years,  his  love 
of  literature  was  as  eager  and  insatiable  as  ever. 
Having  had  to  read,  as  he  said  in  one  of  his  letters 
to  Mr.  Prescott,  already  quoted,  so  much  bad  Latin 
and  Greek  in  the  course  of  his  life,  nothing  gave 
him  greater  pleasure  than  to  refresh  himself  by 
recurring  to  the  great  classic  writers.  But  his  tastes 
were  catholic,  and  probably  there  have  been  few 
who  have  had  a  more  universal  knowledge  of  all 
that  is  best — it  might  even  be  added  of  all  that  is 
worst — in  modern  literature.  At  one  time,  earlier 
in  life,  he  had  had  serious  and  painful  rheumatic 


xii.]  "ANNALS   OF   ST.    PAUL'S"  293 

affections  in  the  eyes,  which  had  been;  the  cause 
of  considerable  anxiety.  But  these  became  less 
frequent  as  time  went  on,  and  in  spite  of  the  strain 
put  upon  his  eyes  his  sight  held  out  wonderfully. 
He  never  had  recourse  to  artificial  help,  and  to  the 
end  of  his  life  he  read  even  small  print  with  little 
effort  by  candle  as  well  as  by  daylight. 

But  while  "  grazing,"  as  he  would  have  said,  at 
will  over  the  Elysian  fields  of  literature,  whilst 
throwing  off  an  occasional  article  for,  if  the  personi- 
fication be  admissible,  his  old  friend  the  Quarterly 
Review,  his  latest  thoughts,  his  last  labour,  and  it 
was  a  labour  of  love,  were  engaged  upon  the  history 
of  the  Cathedral  over  which  he  presided,  and  for 
which  his  admiration  and  affection  seemed  to  increase 
the  better  he  knew  it,  the  longer  he  had  been  pos- 
sessed by  the  charm  of  its  harmonious  proportions. 
The  "  Annals  of  St.  Paul's  "  were  passing  through 
the  press,  and  the  revision  of  the  greater  portion  of 
this  work  had  been  nearly  completed,  when  the 
hand  of  the  author  was  stayed  by  an  illness  which 
terminated  fatally  on  September  24th,  1868.  The 
"Annals  of  St.  Paul's"  and  the  "Memorials  of 
Westminster  Abbey "  run  in  parallel  courses,  and 
it  was  a  happy  coincidence  that  the  histories  of 
the  two  churches,  so  distinct,  yet  each  requiring 
to  be  supplemented  by  that  of  the  other  in  order 
to  convey  a  full  impression  of  the  varying  phases 
of  religious  and  ecclesiastical  life  in  the  metropolis, 
should  have  fallen  to  pens  so  accomplished  as  those 
of  the  two  contemporary  Deans. 


294  THE   "ANNALS"   REVIEWED  [CHAP. 

Even  the  lightest  pages  *  of  a  work  whose 
composition  occupied  the  last  few  months  of  Dean 
Milman's  life  acquire  a  pathetic  interest  now  that 
their  author  is  taken  from  us,  and  they  come  to  us 
as  the  voice  of  the  dead.  Such  a  work  is  necessarily 
sacred  from  criticism  ;  we  turn  to  it,  indeed,  rather 
with  a  personal  than  a  merely  literary  interest,  and 
the  story  of  the  great  Minster  fades  for  the  moment 
before  the  old  man's  recollections  of  the  silver 
utterances  of  Porteus,  of  that  hour  of  his  boyhood 
when,  in  the  Cathedral,  which  was  destined  to  be 
his  own,  he  heard,  or  fancied  he  heard,  the  low 
wail  of  the  sailors  who  bore  and  encircled  the 
remains  of  Nelson,  or  of  the  yet  more  solemn 
moment  when  his  own  voice,  answered  by  the 
responses  of  thousands,  "the  sad  combined  prayer 
as  it  were  of  the  whole  nation,"  uttered  words  of 
hope  and  immortality  over  the  grave  of  Wellington. 
Other  traces,  however,  of  old  age  than  these  pleasant 
memories  there  are  none.  The  book  has  all  the 
freshness  and  vigour  of  the  earlier  works  which  won 
Dean  Milman  his  fame.  There  are  some  passages, 
indeed,  in  which  the  genius  of  the  great  historian 
seems  unable  to  confine  itself  within  the  narrow 
limits  of  his  theme,  and  in  such  broad  and  philo- 
sophic reflections  as  those  on  the  reformers  of 
the  sixteenth  or  the  preachers  of  the  seventeenth 
century  to  bequeath  us  stray  pages  of  that  history 
of  Teutonic  Christianity  to  which  his  greatest  work 
points  the  way.  But  with  a  few  brilliant  exceptions 
such  as  these,  what  is  most  wonderful  in  the  "  Annals 
of  St.  Paul's  "  is  the  power  with  which  the  Dean  has 

*  This  appreciation  of  the  "Annals"  is  quoted  from  an  article  in  the 
Saturday  Review  of  January  2nd,  1869,  which,  at  this  distance  of 
time,  it  will  be  no  breach  of  confidence  to  say  was,  I  have  reason 
to  know,  written  by  the  Rev.  William  Scott,  formerly  editor  of  the 
Christian  Remembrancer,  and  well  known  as  a  keen  and  accom- 
plished critic.  I  have  preferred,  as  before,  to  educe  other  than  my 
own  judgment. 


xii.]  UNITY   OF  THE   EFFECT  295 

grasped  the  exact  subject  that  he  had  chosen,  and 
the  artistic  fidelity  with  which  he  has  grouped  men 
and  events  around  it.  From  beginning  to  end  it 
is  what  it  purports  to  be,  a  history  of  the  Cathedral  ; 
whatever  their  own  inherent  interest,  bishop  and 
citizen  and  Lollard  are  brought  before  us  strictly 
in  their  relation  to  St.  Paul's.  To  produce  this 
unity  of  effect  without  sacrificing  the  interest  of 
the  story  is  of  course  the  mark  of  a  really  great 
writer,  but  even  to  a  great  writer  such  a  task 
would  be  impossible  if  the  subject  were  not  itself 
a  great  one.  Dean  Milman  has  grasped  the  great- 
ness of  a  cathedral  because  he,  almost  alone  among 
modern  deans,  seemed  to  have  understood  what 
a  cathedral  was  and  is.  The  book  is  such  wonder- 
fully pleasant  reading  that  one  may  miss  noticing 
the  exquisite  art  with  which  every  element  of 
mediaeval  society  is  brought  within  the  precinct 
or  the  choir :  bishop,  canon,  the  choir-boys  with 
their  mysteries,  mayor  and  aldermen  in  their  gowns 
of  scarlet  or  green,  the  burghers  gathering  in 
folk-mote  before  the  bell-tower,  the  preacher  at  the 
cross,  the  Lollard  at  the  stake ;  John  of  Gaunt  now 
threatening  Courtenay  in  the  Lady  Chapel,  now 
resting  quietly  in  the  one  royal  tomb  of  St.  Paul's, 
with  his  helmet  and  spear  and  shield  hanging  above 
him;  merchants  making  their  change  in  its  nave, 
Latimer  rating  the  Convocation  from  its  pulpit,  the 
fat  buck  brought  in  priestly  procession  with  blowing 
of  horns  to  the  west  door, — all  this  varied  and 
picturesque  life  of  the  past  is  not  merely  painted  in 
antiquarian  fashion,  but  swept  into  the  general 
current  of  his  history  by  the  Dean's  fine  sense  of 
historical  continuity.  A  quiet  phrase  such  as  "my 
predecessor  Dean  Radulf  de  Diceto"  expresses  the 
whole  tone  of  these  annals,  but  the  tone  is  heightened 
in  its  effect  by  the  fact  that  never  was  a  writer  more 
modern,  more  alive  to  the  progress  and  sentiment 


296  CONTINUITY  OF   INTEREST  [CHAP. 

of  our  own  day.  There  is  no  trace  in  these  pages 
of  the  ignorance,  either  archaeological  or  contemp- 
tuous, which  alike  divorces  the  present  from  the 
past.  To  Dean  Milman  the  services  which  he 
organized  beneath  the  dome  seemed  only  the 
natural  completion  of  the  work  which  Bishop 
Maurice  had  begun  amid  the  desolation  of  the 
Conquest.  Between  the  two  ran  a  stream  of 
continuous  life,  ecclesiastical,  literary,  national, 
individual,  varying  in  interest  and  character  with 
the  ages  through  which  it  passed,  but  passing 
through  the  ages  without  a  break. 

Illustration  in  confirmation  of  these  observations 
might  be  taken  from  almost  any  page  of  the 
"  Annals."  Dean  Milman's  character  of  his  pre- 
decessor Tillotson,  his  reflections  upon  Bishop 
Lowth's  "Lectures  on  Hebrew  Poetry,''  his  eloquent 
appreciation  of  the  "  Book  of  Common  Prayer," 
have  been  quoted  in  Dean  Stanley's  essay,  more 
than  once  referred  to.  To  these  I  will  add  presently 
a  portion  of  the  sketch  of  another  of  his  predecessors 
in  the  Deanery,  Dr.  John  Donne.  Before  proceed- 
ing, however,  to  this  the  last  excerpt  that  I  can 
allow  myself,  it  may  be  interesting,  with  respect  to 
the  material  fabric  of  the  Cathedral,  to  give  my 
father's  characterization  of  the  old  building,  of  old 
St.  Paul's,  which,  even  before  the  Great  Fire,  in 
which  it  finally  disappeared,  had  fallen  into  a  state 
of  great  dilapidation,  and  was  foredoomed  to  destruc- 
tion. Fire  indeed  would  seem  from  its  earliest 
history  to  have  been  the  predestined  enemy  of  the 
Cathedral  of  St.  Paul.  In  the  year  1087,  the 


xii.]  FIRES   AT   ST.    PAUL'S  297 

Cathedral,  the  church  founded  by  Bishop  Mellitus 
of  which  no  record  survives,  was  entirely  consumed 
by  a  fire  which  swept  over  the  whole  city  of 
London,  or  was  so  damaged  as  to  be  unfit  for 
worship.  In  another  great  fire  (A.D.  1136),  which 
burnt  from  London  Bridge  to  St.  Clement  Danes, 
the  new  Cathedral,  designed  by  Bishop  Maurice, 
and  completed  by  his  successor,  Richard  de 
Belmeis,  was  much  damaged,  though  to  what 
extent  cannot  be  determined.  And  again  passing 
over  several  centuries  : — 

In  the  year  1561  a  terrific  storm  burst  over 
London.  The  church  of  St.  Martin,  Ludgate 
Hill,  was  struck  by  lightning:  huge  stones  came 
toppling  down  on  the  roof  and  on  the  pavement. 
The  alarm  was  not  over  when  the  lightning  was 
seen  to  flash  into  an  aperture  in  the  steeple  of  the 
Cathedral.  The  steeple  was  of  wood  covered  with 
lead.  The  fire  burned  downwards  for  four  hours 
with  irresistible  force,  the  bells  melted,  the  timber 
blazed,  the  stones  crumbled  and  fell.  The  lead 
flowed  down  in  sheets  of  flame,  threatening  but 
happily  not  damaging  the  organ.  The  fire  ran 
along  the  roof  east,  west,  north,  and  south,  which 
fell  in,  filling  the  whole  church  with  a  mass  of 
ruin.  At  a  period  of  such  fierce  religious  excite- 
ment, in  the  clash  and  collision  of  opinions  and 
passions,  both  parties  saw  in  this  event  a  manifest 
sign  from  heaven,  a  sign  of  the  Divine  wrath. 
Where  could  God,  the  avenger  of  sin,  reveal  Him- 
self so  awfully,  so  undesirably,  so  visibly,  as  in 
thus  striking  the  great  church  of  the  metropolis, 
with  that  which  all  religions,  which  heathen  poetry 
and  Biblical  imagery  had  declared  to  be  the  chosen 
bolt  of  destruction  from  the  right  hand  of  the 


298          RESTORATION   A   NATIONAL  WORK      [CHAP. 

Almighty  ?  Each  party  at  once  thrust  itself  into 
the  secret  counsels  of  the  inscrutable  Godhead, 
and  read,  without  doubt  or  hesitation,  the  signifi- 
cance of  this,  as  all  agreed,  supernatural  event, — the 
Protestants  as  condemnatory  of  the  old  superstitious 
slavery  to  the  usurping  Bishop  of  Rome;  the 
Papalists,  of  the  rebellion  against  the  Vicar  of 
Christ,  the  sacrilegious  profanation  of  the  sanctuary.* 

The  demolition  of  St.  Paul's  had,  indeed,  not 
been  so  complete  as  was  apprehended  at  first ;  but 
its  destruction  was  held  to  be  a  national  calamity, 
its  restoration  a  national  work.  This  proceeded 
so  rapidly  that  on  November  ist,  1566 — 

the  Lord  Mayor  and  aldermen,  and  all  the  crafts 
of  London,  in  their  liveries,  went  to  the  Cathedral 
with  a  vast  retinue  (eighty  men  carrying  torches)  : 
the  Lord  Mayor  tarried  the  sermon,  which  lasted 
into  the  night  (a  November  night),  and  returned 
home  by  the  light  of  the  torches. 

The  dilapidated  condition  of  the  building  in  the 
the  reign  of  James  I.,  its  restoration  under  the 
auspices  of  Laud,  the  Bishop  of  London,  by  Inigo 
Jones,  its  slow  decay  and  ruin  under  the  Common- 
wealth, must  be  passed  over.  On  the  recommence- 
ment of  the  services  after  the  Restoration,  it  was 
seen  that  the  whole  fabric  was  insecure,  if  not 
dangerous.  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  then  Mr.  Wren, 
was  consulted,  and  upon  his  report,  which  was  by 
no  means  favourable,  there  was  a  long  and  obstinate 
debate.  No  resolution  had  been  taken,  and  the 

*  "Annals,"  p.  277. 


XIL]    ENGLISH  CATHEDRALS  CHARACTERIZED    299 

debate  was  still  going  on,  when  it  was  determined 
by  that  terrible  arbiter,  the  Fire  of  London. 

Was,  then,  the  Fire  of  London,  if  so  remorseless, 
so  fatal  a  destroyer  ?  Are  we  to  mourn  with 
unmitigated  sorrow  over  the  demolition  of  old 
St.  Paul's  ?  Of  England's  more  glorious  cathedrals, 
it  seems  to  me,  I  confess,  none  could  be  so  well 
spared.  Excepting  its  vast  size,  it  had  nothing 
to  distinguish  it.  It  must  have  been  a  gloomy, 
ponderous  pile.  The  nave  and  choir  were  of 
different  ages  (that  was  common),  but  ill  formed, 
ill  adjusted  together,  with  disproportioned  aisles 
and  transepts,  and  a  low,  square,  somewhat  clumsy 
tower,  out  of  which  once  rose  a  spire,  tall  indeed,  but 
merely  built  of  woodwork  and  lead.  London  would, 
at  best,  have  been  forced  to  bow  its  head  before 
the  cathedrals  of  many  of  our  provincial  cities. 
Old  St.  Paul's  had  nothing  of  the  prodigal 
magnificence,  the  harmonious  variety,  of  Lincoln, 
the  stately  majesty  of  York,  the  solemn  grandeur 
of  Canterbury,  the  perfect  sky-aspiring  unity  of 
Salisbury.  It  had  not  even  one  of  the  great 
conceptions  which  are  the  pride  and  boast  of  some 
of  our  other  churches  :  neither  the  massy  strength 
of  Durham,  "  looking  eternity  "  with  its  marvellous 
Galilee,  nor  the  tower  of  Gloucester,  nor  the  lantern 
of  Ely,  nor  the  rich  picturesqueness  of  Beverley, 
nor  the  deep  receding,  highly  decorated  arches  of 
the  west  front  of  Peterborough.  And  of  ancient 
St.  Paul's  the  bastard  Gothic  of  Inigo  Jones  had 
cased  the  venerable,  if  decayed,  walls  throughout 
with  a  flat,  incongruous  facing.  The  unrivalled 
beauty  of  Inigo  Jones's  portico  was  the  deformity 
of  the  church.* 

This   tempered   regret   for   the   loss   of  the    old 

*  "  Annals,"  p.  388. 


300  NEW   ST.    PAUL'S  [CHAP. 

building,  with  all  its  historical  associations,  was  no 
doubt  still  further  influenced  by  the  intense  ad- 
miration which  the  historian  of  St.  Paul's  entertained 
for  the  new  building  by  which  it  was  replaced. 

What  building  in  its  exterior  form  does  not  bow 
its  head  before  St.  Paul's  ?  What  eye,  trained  to 
all  that  is  perfect  in  architecture,  does  not  recognize 
the  inimitable  beauty  of  its  lines,  the  majestic  yet 
airy  swelling  of  its  dome,  its  rich,  harmonious 
ornamentation  ?  .  .  .  Mr.  Fergusson,  though  sternly 
impartial  and  impatient  of  some  defects  which  strike 
his  fastidious  judgment,  writes  :  "It  will  hardly  be 
disputed  that  the  exterior  of  St.  Paul's  surpasses 
in  beauty  of  design  all  the  other  examples  of  the 
same  class  which  have  yet  been  carried  out ;  and 
whether  seen  from  a  distance  or  near,  it  is,  externally 
at  least,  one  of  the  grandest  and  most  beautiful 
churches  of  Europe." 

These  criticisims  are,  it  will  be  observed,  limited 
to  the  exterior.  For  the  interior  Wren's  designs 
were  not  only  not  carried  out,  but  were  in  every 
way  thwarted  and  controlled.  In  spite  of  every- 
thing, however,  and  undisturbed  by  the  intervening 
political  revolution,  the  construction  proceeded 
rapidly,  and  only  twenty-two  years  elapsed  between 
the  laying  of  the  first  stone  to  the  opening  of  the 
choir  for  divine  service  on  December  2nd,  ,,1697, 
appointed  as  a  thanksgiving  day  for  the  Peace  of 
Ryswick.  It  was  almost  boasted  that  as  the  new 
Cathedral  was  built  by  one  architect,  so  it  rose 
during  the  episcopate  of  one  bishop,  Henry 
Compton.  From  that  time  the  services  went  on 


xii.]  SIR   CHRISTOPHER   WREN  30 l 

uninterruptedly  ;  but  the  exterior  of  the  Cathedral 
was  not  adjudged  to  be  complete  till  1710,  in  which 
year  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  by  the  hand  of  his 
son,  laid  the  last  and  highest  stone  of  the  lantern 
of  the  cupola. 

If  ever  there  was  an  occasion  on  which  the 
heart  of  man  might  swell  with  pardonable  pride, 
it  was  the  heart  of  Wren  at  that  hour,  whether 
he  himself  was  actually  at  that  giddy  summit  of 
the  building,  or  watched  his  son's  act  from  below. 
The  architect  looked  down,  or  looked  up  and 
around,  on  this  great  and  matchless  building,  the 
creation  of  his  own  mind,  the  achievement  of  his 
sole  care  and  skill — the  whole  building  stretching 
out  in  all  its  perfect  harmony,  with  its  fine 
horizontal  lines,  various  yet  perfect  in  unison,  its 
towers,  its  unrivalled  dome,  its  crowning  lantern 
and  cross.  All  London  had  poured  forth  for  the 
spectacle,  which  had  been  publicly  announced,  and 
were  looking  up  in  wonder  to  the  old  man,  or  his 
son  if  not  the  old  man  himself,  who  was,  on  that 
wondrous  height,  setting  the  seal,  as  it  were,  to 
his  august  labours.  If  in  that  wide  circle  (let  us, 
however  doubtful,  lift  the  old  man  to  that  proud 
eminence)  which  his  eye  might  embrace  there  were 
various  objects  for  -regret  and  disappointment ;  if, 
instead  of  beholding  the  spacious  streets  of  the 
city,  each  converging  to  its  centre,  London  had 
sprung  up  and  spread  in  irregular  labyrinths  of 
close,  dark,  intricate  lanes ;  if  even  his  own 
Cathedral  was  crowded  upon  and  jostled  by  mean 
and  unworthy  buildings ; — yet,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  might  survey,  not  the  Cathedral  only,  but  a 
number  of  stately  churches  which  had  risen  at  his 
command,  and  taken  form  and  dignity  from  his 
genius  and  skill :  on  one  side  the  picturesque  steeple 


302        VIEW   FROM   THE   GOLDEN   GALLERY    [CHAP. 

of  St.  Mary-le-Bow,  on  the  other  the  exquisite 
tower  of  St.  Bride's,  with  all  its  graceful,  gradually 
diminishing  circles,  not  yet  shorn  of  its  full  and 
finely  proportioned  height ;  beyond  and  on  all  sides, 
if  more  dimly  seen,  yet  discernible  by  his  partial 
eyesight  (he  might  even  penetrate  to  the  inimitable 
interior  of  St.  Stephen's,  Wallbrook),  church  after 
church  as  far  as  St.  Dunstan's-in-the-East  ;  perhaps 
Greenwich  may  have  been  vaguely  made  out  in 
the  remote  distance.  And  all  this  one  man  had 
been  permitted  to  conceive  and  execute — a  man 
not  originally  destined  or  educated  for  an  architect, 
but  compelled,  as  it  were,  by  the  public  necessities 
to  assume  the  office,  and  so  to  fulfil  it  as  to  stand 
on  a  level  with  the  most  consummate  masters  of 
the  art  in  Europe,  and  to  take  his  stand  on  an 
eminence  which  his  English  successors  almost 
despair  of  attaining.* 

To  none  of  his  predecessors  did  my  father  seem 
more  attracted  than  to  Donne,  "the  only  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's,  till  a  very  late  successor,  who  was  guilty 
of  poetry  "  ;  "whose  fame  had  the  good  fortune  of 
being  recorded  in  one  of  those  charming,  popular 
biographies  of  Isaak  Walton  which  will  last  as  long 
as  English  literature  lasts "  ;  whose  life,  a  singular 
combination  of  romance  and  of  poetry  at  its  begin- 
ning, of  grave  and  solemn  wisdom  and  holiness  at 
its  close,  deserved  to  be  related  by  a  writer  whose 
words  will  not  die  away  from  the  religious  life  of 
England.  For  the  salient  events  of  this  life,  for 
an  appreciation  of  Donne's  poetry,  reference  may 
be  made  to  the  "  Annals,"  and  we  must  pass  to 

*  "Annals,"  pp.  432-3- 


xii.]  DEAN   JOHN   DONNE  303 

that  which  more  entirely  connects  itself  with  St. 
Paul's,  the  characterization  of  Donne  preaching,  for 
Donne  in  his  own  day  was  more  famous  as  a 
preacher  than  a  poet. 

It  is  difficult  for  a  Dean  of  our  rapid  and  restless 
days  to  imagine,  when  he  surveys  the  massy  folios  of 
Donne's  "Sermons" — each  sermon  spreads  out  over 
many  pages — a  vast  congregation  in  the  Cathedral 
or  at  Paul's  Cross,  listening,  not  only  with  patience, 
but  with  absorbed  interest,  with  unflagging  attention, 
even  with  delight  and  rapture,  to  those  interminable 
disquisitions,  to  us  teeming  with  laboured  obscurity, 
false  and  misplaced  wit,  fatiguing  antitheses.  How- 
ever set  off,  as  by  all  accounts  they  were,  by  a  most 
graceful  and  impressive  delivery,  it  is  astonishing  to 
us  that  he  should  have  held  a  London  congregation 
enthralled,  unwearied,  unsatiated.  Yet  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  this  was  the  case.  And  this 
congregation  consisted  both  of  the  people  down 
to  the  lowest,  and  of  the  most  noble,  wise,  accom- 
plished of  that  highly  intellectual  age.  They  sat, 
even  stood,  undisturbed,  except  by  their  own 
murmurs  of  admiration,  sometimes  by  hardly  sup- 
pressed tears.  One  of  Donne's  poetical  panegyrists 
writes  : 

And  never  were  we  wearied  till  we  saw 

The  hour,  and  but  an  hour,  to  end  did  draw. 

It  must  have  been  quick  work  to  have  dispatched 
one  of  the  sermons  of  Donne,  as  printed,  in  an 
hour.  .  .  .  Coleridge  perhaps  alone  of  modern 
readers  delighted  to  wander  in  the  wide  and  in- 
tricate mazes  of  Donne's  theology.  .  .  .  Yet  not 
carrying  my  admiration  quite  so  far,  any  one  who 
will  give  himself  to  the  work  will  find  in  Donne 
a  wonderful  solidity  of  thought,  a  sustained  majesty, 
an  earnest  force,  almost  unrivalled,  with  passages 


304  DONNE   AS   A   PREACHER  [CHAP 

occasionally  of  splendid,  almost  impassioned  de- 
votion. The  learning  of  Donne  is  in  general 
singularly  apposite,  and  rarely  obtrusive  or  ostenta- 
tious ;  the  theology  masculine,  but  not  scholastically 
logical.  Even  what  in  those  days  was  esteemed 
wit,  which  ran  wild  in  his  poetry  and  suffocated 
the  graceful  and  passionate  thoughts,  is  in  his  prose 
under  control  and  discipline. 

Donne's  calm  and  modest  piety  had  long  shrunk 
from  the  responsibility  of  entering  into  Holy  Orders. 
He  was  almost  compelled  to  be  an  ecclesiastic ;  and 
greater  force  was  necessary  to  induce  him  to  accept 
the  dignity  and  undertake  the  arduous  and  eminent 
office  of  Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  As  Dean  of  St.  Paul's 
(A.D.  1621-31)  he  must  have  done  much  to  main- 
tain the  high  position  and  popularity  of  the  Cathedral, 
which  was  ominously  threatened  by  advancing  Puri- 
tanism. Such  a  preacher,  followed  by  such  multitudes, 
must  have  overawed,  if  he  did  not  win,  the  hearts 
of  those  who  would  reduce  the  worship  of  the 
Church  of  England  to  the  humblest  edifice,  the 
scantiest  ritual.  It  is  perhaps  well  that,  of  the 
scattered  and  calcined  monuments  dug  out  of 
the  ruins  of  the  Great  Fire,  the  older  clergy  are 
represented  by  the  yet  recognizable  figure  of  Dean 
Donne  in  his  shroud.* 

It  is  difficult  to  tear  oneself  away  from  the 
"  Annals  of  St.  Paul's."  They  have  indeed  a 
peculiar  interest  for  biographical  purposes,  occu- 
pying as  they  did  so  much  of  my  father's  latest 
thoughts,  and  illustrating  as  they  do  the  many- 
sidedness  of  his  interests  and  tastes.  For  this 
reason  I  have  allowed  myself  to  quote  from  them 
more  largely  than  I  should  otherwise  have  done, 

*  "Annals,"  pp.  323-30. 


xii.]  THE   WELLINGTON   MONUMENT  3°5 

and   the    more   because  the  work  is   out  of  print, 
and  now  not  easily  obtainable. 

One  word  may  be  added  upon  a  subject  in 
connection  with  the  fabric  upon  which  a  good 
deal  of  misconception  afterwards  prevailed — the 
site  in  the  Consistory  Court  for  the  monument  of 
the  Duke  of  Wellington.  The  selection  of  this 
site,  which  was  no  doubt  advocated  by  Dean 
Milman,  but  for  which  he  was  by  no  means  alone 
responsible,  was,  I  believe,  in  the  first  instance 
accepted  or  acquiesced  in  by  all  the  parties  who 
were  principally  concerned,  including  Mr.  Stevens 
himself;  and  it  was  not  until  after  the  decision 
had  been  taken  and  the  preparation  of  the  chapel 
had  made  considerable  progress  that  questions  were 
raised  as  to  the  propriety  of  banishing  so  fine  a 
work  of  art  to  a  side  chapel,  where  it  could  be 
but  imperfectly  seen.  Dean  Milman's  reasons  for 
advocating  the  appropriation  of  the  Consistory 
Court  for  the  reception  of  the  Wellington  monu- 
ment, though  they  have  since  been  overruled,  were 
not  without  weight,  and  were  as  follows  : — As  the 
custodian  of  a  building  of  sublime  proportions, 
distinguished  for  the  perfect  harmony  of  all  its 
parts,  he  believed  that  it  would  be  wrong  to  destroy 
the  symmetry  of  the  nave  arcades  by  introducing 
beneath  one  of  the  arches  a  vast  monumental 
structure,  however  indisputable  the  merits  of  such 
structure  might  be — and  no  one  had  a  higher 
appreciation  of  the  design  for  the  Wellington 
monument  than  himself.  He  felt  too  a  scruple., 

20 


306          WESTMINSTER   ABBEY  A   WARNING      [CHAP. 

taking  into  consideration  the  uses  for  which  the 
Cathedral  might  at  any  time  be  required  as  the 
proper  place  for  all  solemn  acts  of  national  worship, 
and  the  ever-increasing  demands  made  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  large  congregations,  at  the  idea  of 
encroaching  upon  the  space  which  Sir  Christopher 
Wren  had  left  free,  by  the  erection  of  permanent 
structures  upon  any  part  of  it.  He  feared  also 
that,  if  one  archway  of  the  nave  were  given  up 
to  a  Wellington  monument — the  mutilated  windows 
and  archways  in  Westminster  Abbey  might  serve 
as  a  warning — it  would  hereafter  be  more  difficult 
to  defend  the  remaining  similar  spaces  from  re- 
peated and  less-warranted  intrusions.  On  these 
grounds,  and  not  from  any  failure  to  estimate  the 
beauty  of  the  designed  monument,  as  a  monument, 
my  father's  opinion  rested.  And  is  it  quite  clear 
even  now  that  he  was  wrong — at  least  if  monu- 
ments should  be  subordinate  to  cathedrals,  not 
cathedrals  to  monuments  ?  Does  not  the  blocking 
of  one  great  arch  of  the  nave,  and  one  only,  break 
the  continuity  of  the  perspective,  and  produce  a 
slightly  lop-sided  effect,  inviting  a  corresponding 
balance  on  the  other  side,  the  introduction  of 
other,  and  yet  again  other,  monuments  ? 

As  the  single  infirmity  with  which  my  father 
was  afflicted — a  partial  deafness — had  rendered  him 
less  capable  of  enjoying  to  its  full  extent  the 
social  intercourse  in  which  he  so  much  delighted, 
he  had  year  after  year  as  summer  came  round 


XIL]  ILLNESS   AND   DEATH  307 

looked  forward  with  ever-increasing  eagerness  to 
the  month,  which,  since  his  travelling  days  were 
over,  he  was  wont  to  spend  in  some  quiet  country 
retreat.  For  the  summer  of  1868  he  had  taken,  not 
for  the  first  time,  a  house,  Queen's  Lodge,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Ascot,  and  there,  in  the  society 
of  his  own  family,  with  from  time  to  time  a  few 
intimate  friends  gathered  about  him,  he  was  passing 
days  to  himself  and  to  all  about  him  of  pure  and 
simple  enjoyment.  His  mornings  were  occupied  in 
the  revision  of  the  "  Annals,"  his  evenings  by  long 
pleasant  drives  through  the  forest  and  open  country 
about  Bagshot  and  Cobham.  The  summer  had 
been  unusually  hot ;  and,  always  a  somewhat 
impetuous  corrector  of  the  press,  my  father  had 
been  a  little  worried  by  the  difficulty  of  verifying 
dates  or  detecting  printer's  slips  at  a  distance  from 
his  library  ;  but  though  afterwards  it  seemed,  from 
the  recollection  of  a  few  casual  words  which  had 
fallen  from  him,  as  if  he  might  himself  have  had 
some  premonition,  there  was  no  outward  sign  of  a 
coming  change,  no  occasion  for  anxiety.  In  the 
full  exercise  of  all  his  brilliant  mental  activities,  in 
the  midst  of  the  peaceful  country  sights  and  sounds 
to  which  he  was  so  sensitively  alive,  actually 
engaged  in  conversation  with  friends  for  whom  he 
had  the  highest  regard,  the  summons  came.  On 
the  2Qth  day  of  August  he  was  attacked  by  an 
illness,  a  paralytic  stroke,  which  on  the  24th  of  the 
following  month  had  its  fatal  termination. 

Scholar,    poet,    critic,    historian,    but    above   and 


308  FUNERAL  AT   ST.   PAUL'S  [CHAP. 

beyond  all  these  a  perfect  Christian  gentleman, 
the  death  of  Dean  Milman  left  a  void  which  could 
not  easily  be  filled.  The  concurrent  testimony  of 
all  those  who  were  numbered  among  his  friends  or 
bound  by  closer  ties  of  nearer  love  bore  witness  to 
the  charm  and  beauty,  the  kindliness  and  simplicity, 
of  his  character  and  disposition.  He  was  absolutely 
guileless,  a  man  of  most  transparent  honesty,  of 
undaunted  moral  courage.  Bishop  Stanley,  of 
Norwich,  used  to  say  that  "  Milman,  of  all  men 
whom  he  had  known,  had  the  greatest  moral 
courage." 

Seldom  has  any  one  been  borne  to  the  grave 
amid  a  more  universal  tribute  of  respect  and  affection 
from  all  those  of  whatever  party  or  creed  whose 
good  opinion  might  seem  of  most  account.  He 
was  carried  to  his  rest  with  simple  pomp,  and  was 
laid  with  singular  propriety  in  the  crypt  of  the 
grand  Cathedral  over  which  as  Dean  he  had  so 
many  years  presided,  with  the  interests  of  which 
he  had  so  entirely  identified  himself,  and  the  history 
of  which  had  been  his  latest  labour. 

Much  more  might  be  said,  but  filial  piety  restrains, 
and  I  cannot  do  more  than  make  a  passing  allusion 
to  the  expressions  of  affection  and  respect  which 
were  received  from  a  wide  circle  of  my  father's 
friends,  interesting  though  many  of  them  might  be, 
even  were  it  only  as  reminiscences  of  the  writers, 
of  a  generation,  among  whom  my  father  moved 
a  familiar  figure,  and  of  which  there  can  now  be 
scarce  a  surviving  representative. 


XIL]     THE   ATTRACTION   OF   HIS   CHARACTER     309 

A  writer  in  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette  of  the  day, 
who  evidently  knew  him  well,  said  that  there  was 

a  charm  about  his  society  which  it  is  difficult  to 
analyze  or  describe.  There  was  something  very 
venerable  in  his  age,  and  his  wonderful  store  of 
knowledge  on  all  subjects  ;  but  this  was  relieved  in 
the  most  delightful  manner  by  the  fire,  the  eager- 
ness, the  universal  interest  in  whatever  was  going 
on,  which  gave  a  character  to  his  conversation ;  and 
these  characteristics  again  were  blended  in  a  very 
touching  way  with  the  most  affectionate  gentleness 
and  beauty  of  demeanour. 

It  is  only  by  his  own  ideas,  expressed  in  his  own 
words  [writes  another  *]  that  such  a  mind  as  that  of 
the  Dean  can  be  adequately  given.  .  .  .  Where 
shall  we  now  find  a  man  so  learned,  so  wise,  so  full 
of  the  best  knowledge,  so  able  and  willing  to  use  it 
for  the  service  of  man — in  whom,  indeed, 

Old  experience  did  attain 

To  something  of  prophetic  strain  ? 

The  feeling  which  he  inspired  in  his  family  and 
those  privileged  to  enjoy  his  friendship  showed  how 
deep  was  the  affectionate  nature  of  the  man  in  that 
portion  of  his  life  with  which  the  outside  world  has 
no  right  to  intermeddle  ;  and  his  beautiful  hymns, 
written  long  before  hymns  had  become  the  fashion, 
and  three  of  which  at  least  are  now  part  of  the 
devotional  expression  of  the  nation,  are  a  measure 
of  that  true  piety  which  no  one  possessed  in  a 
higher  degree.  ...  As  he  began,  so  he  ended, — the 
value  of  the  spirit  beyond  the  letter ;  of  the 
substance  above  the  form  ;  the  truth  under  divers 
forms  of  error,  the  error  mingled  with  what  we 
take  to  be  the  truth.  "  Orthodoxy  of  creed,"  he 

*  Eraser's  Magazine,  January,  1869. 


310  DEAN   MILMAN   AS   A  WRITER  [CHAP. 

has  been  heard  to  say,  "  has  that  ensured  the 
orthodoxy  of  the  Christian  heart  which  breathes 
only  Christian  love  ?  I  am  one  of  those  that 
believe  the  torturing  our  fellow-creatures  a  worse 
heresy  against  the  Gospel  than  the  most  perverse 
of  those  opinions  of  the  miserable  victims  led  by 
thousands  to  the  stake." 

Of  Dean  Milman  as  a  writer  no  general  estimate 
can  be  attempted  here  or  by  me.  His  historical 
works  at  least  have  taken,  and,  so  far  as  can  be 
judged,  are  likely  to  maintain,  a  permanent  place 
among  the  standard  works  of  English  literature. 
For  the  purposes  of  a  biographical  sketch  so  slight 
as  the  present,  it  seemed  of  more  value  to  give  pro- 
minence to  the  personality  of  the  writer ;  to  show, 
however  inefficiently,  the  charm  that  he  exercised 
upon  those  with  whom  duty  and  friendship  brought 
him  into  relation — how,  by  this  element  of  personal 
attraction,  the  influence  of  his  writings  found  the 
readier  acceptance. 

"  Why  do  they  not  attack  me — that  is,  my  heresy?" 
he  has  been  heard  to  say,  when  Convocation  or 
Congresses  or  Synods  have  been  worrying  some 
helpless  parson.  But  it  was  known  that  it  would 
not  answer  to  assault  one  so  extremely  well  able  to 
defend  himself,  and  to  set  forth  all  reasons,  historical, 
metaphysical,  and  moral,  for  the  faith  that  was  in 
him — one  so  little  swayed  by  passion  or  prejudice, 
so  correct,  so  learned,  so  patient,  and  so  wise.* 

I  cannot  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  concluding, 
in  the  words  of  a  writer,  still  happily  living,  still 

*  Fraser^s  Magazine,  ubi  supra. 


xii.]  TRIBUTE   BY   MR.    LECKY  311 

exercising  a  beneficent  influence  in  literature — 
Mr.  Lecky.  My  father  had  been  among  the  first 
to  recognize  the  great  merits  of  Mr.  Lecky's 
"  History  of  the  Rise  and  Influence  of  the  Spirit 
of  Rationalism  in  Europe,"  and  I  think  I  am  not 
wrong  in  saying  that  between  my  father  and  the 
younger  man  a  very  friendly  feeling,  based  on  mutual 
esteem  and  many  common  sympathies,  had  grown 
up.  To  this  and  to  my  father's  memory  Mr.  Lecky 
pays  an  eloquent  tribute  in  a  preface  to  the  "  History 
of  European  Morals,"  which  was  published  a  few 
months  after  his  death. 

There  is  one  writer  [he  says]  whom  I  must 
especially  mention,  for  his  name  occurs  continually 
in  the  following  pages;  and  his  memory  has  been 
more  frequently,  and  in  these  later  months  more 
sadly,  present  to  my  mind  than  any  other.  Brilliant 
and  numerous  as  are  the  works  of  the  late  Dean 
Milman,  it  was  those  only  who  had  the  great  privi- 
lege of  his  friendship  who  could  fully  realize  the 
amazing  extent  and  variety  of  his  knowledge ;  the 
calm,  luminous,  and  delicate  judgment  which  he 
carried  into  so  many  spheres ;  the  inimitable  grace 
and  tact  of  his  conversation,  coruscating  with  the 
happiest  anecdotes  and  the  brightest  and  yet  the 
gentlest  humour ;  and  perhaps  what  was  more  re- 
markable than  any  single  faculty,  the  admirable 
harmony  and  symmetry  of  his  mind  and  character, 
so  free  from  all  the  disproportion  and  eccentricity 
and  exaggeration  that  sometimes  makes  even  genius 
assume  the  form  of  a  splendid  disease.  They 
can  never  forget  those  yet  higher  attributes  which 
rendered  him  so  unspeakably  reverent  to  all  who 
knew  him  well, — his  fervent  love  of  truth ;  his 
wide  tolerance ;  his  large,  generous,  and  masculine 


312  MONUMENT   IN    ST.    PAUL'S         [APPENDIX 

judgments  of  men  and  things  ;  his  almost  instinctive 
perception  of  the  good  that  is  latent  in  each  opposing 
party ;  his  disdain  for  the  noisy  triumph  and  the 
flitting  popularity  of  mere  sectarian  strife  ;  the  fond 
and  touching  affection  with  which  he  dwelt  upon  the 
images  of  the  past,  combining,  even  in  extreme  old 
age,  with  the  keenest  and  most  hopeful  insight  into 
the  progressive  movements  of  his  time,  and  with  a 
rare  power  of  winning  the  confidence  and  reading 
the  thoughts  of  the  youngest  about  him.  That 
such  a  writer  should  have  devoted  himself  to  the 
department  of  history  which  more  than  any  other 
has  been  distorted  by  ignorance,  puerility,  and  dis- 
honesty, I  conceive  to  be  one  of  the  happiest  facts 
in  English  literature,  and  (though  sometimes  diverg- 
ing from  his  views)  in  many  parts  of  the  following 
work  I  have  largely  availed  myself  of  his  researches. 

A  monument  to  my  father's  memory  was  erected 
by  public  subscription  in  the  south  aisle  of  the 
Cathedral — an  altar-tomb,  with  recumbent  figure ; 
and  I  do  not  think  that  I  can  end  this  imperfect 
memoir  in  words  more  appropriate  than  those  of  the 
inscription  : — 

HENRICUS  HART  MILMAN. 

NAT.    IV.    ID.    FEB.    CIDIOCCXCI.    OB.    KAL.    OCT.    CIDIOCCCLXVIII. 

PASTOR,    POETA,    HISTORICUS,    THEOLOGUS. 

PER   XIX.   ANNOS   HUJUSCE   ECCLESLE   CATHEDRALIS   DECANUS. 
NAVIS  SOLITUDINEM  DIVINIS   OFFICIIS,  ET  TURBvE  FIDELIUM    RESTITUIT. 

CANDORE   ANIMI,    SUAVITATE   MORUM,    CAPACI   INGENIO   INSIGNIS. 
IN   OMNI  LITERARUM  GENERE  VERSATUS  :   VERI  INDAGATOR  INTREPIDUS  : 
SACR/E  HISTORIC  NOVA  SCIENTIARUM  AUGMENTA  FELICITER  ADHIBUIT  : 

VERBIS   CHRISTI   SACROSANCTIS   UNICE  CONFISUS, 

ADVERSOS   SIBI,    RELIGIONI   SECULUM,    SI   QUIS  ALIUS   CONCILIABAT : 
FRUCTUS  LONGI   CERTAMINIS,   SENEX  TANDEM    PERCIPIENS. 


i.]  CAPTAIN   F.    M.    MILMAN'S   DIARY  313 


APPENDIX    I. 

Diary  of  a  Journey  from  Talavera  to  Madrid  and  Bayonne  by 
Captain  F.  M.  Milman,  of  the  Coldstream  Guards,  October  i6th 
to  November  6th,  1809.  As  stated  in  the  text,  Captain  Milman 
was  severely  wounded  at  Talavera,  and  was  there  taken 
prisoner  in  the  hospital. 

SEGOVIA,  October  i6M,  1809. 

I  quitted  Talavera  on  the  yth  inst.*  They  found 
us  no  carts  to  carry  our  baggage  or  ourselves ;  we 
were  therefore  obliged  to  buy  beasts  to  carry  our 
things.  Our  company  consisted  of  Major  Popham, 
24th  Regiment ;  Major  Fothringham,  3rd  Guards  ; 
Mr.  Scott,  Ensign,  3rd  Guards  ;  Surgeon  Egan,  23rd 
Dragoons  ;  and  myself.  I  contrived  to  purchase  an 
ass  and  a  pony,  and  took  leave  of  the  town  without 
regret  at  seven  in  the  morning.  The  escort  consisted 
of  about  two  hundred  men :  there  were  about  sixty  of 
our  own  prisoners,  convalescents,  who  marched  with 
us.  The  detachment  performed  the  march  (nineteen 
leagues)  in  three  days,  when  we  arrived  at  Madrid. 
There  we  expected  the  most  liberal  treatment,  but 
we  were  most  egregiously  deceived.  The  first  thing 
that  happened  made  us  suspect — viz.  that,  instead 
of  driving  us  through  the  town,  they  conveyed  us 
round  the  town  close  prisoners  to  the  Retiro,  and 
during  the  three  days  we  remained  there  the  conduct 
of  the  Government  could  not  have  been  worse 
towards  the  lowest  animals.  A  dirty-looking  rascal 
brought  us  black  bread  to  last  us  three  days  ;  and 

*  The  battle  of  Talavera  was  fought  July  28th. 


314  PRISONER   AT   MADRID  [APPENDIX 

the  second  day  we  received  from  the  same  brute  a 
stinking  goat,  which  we  were  obliged  to  throw  away. 
They  gave  us  to  lie  upon  some  dirty  matresses  from 
an  hospital  which  were  covered  with  putrid  blood. 
Had  we  not  luckily  had  money,  we  should  have 
fared  extremely  ill.  There  was  a  French  inn  next 
door  to  us,  from  which  we  continued  to  have  break- 
fast and  dinner  at  the  rate  the  unconscionable 
master  chose  to  charge,  which  you  may  be  sure  was 
not  extremely  moderate,  nor  indeed  ever  is  when 
they  catch  hold  of  Englishmen. 

I  have  mentioned  to  you  the  extent  of  King  Joe's 
liberality  :  the  reason  ascribed  for  such  unprincipled 
conduct  was  that  his  Majesty  had  lent  his  carnage  for 
the  conveyance  of  two  officers  to  Bayonne,  had  given 
them  money  and  linen,  and  that  regardless  of  such 
kindness  and  notwithstanding  their  parole  (we  do  not 
know  this  for  certain)  they  had  made  their  escape  on 
the  road  to  France  in  the  identical  carriage.  We  do 
not  believe  the  truth  of  it,  but  suppose  they  must 
have  been  rescued.  I  had  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  General  Belliard's  aide-de-camp,  Governor  of 
Madrid,  who  got  leave  for  us  to  walk  out  attended 
by  himself  to  see  the  town  :  his  name  is  Captain 
Welch ;  he  promised  to  get  us  money,  but  we  saw 
him  but  twice.  We  expected  to  see  him  the  morn- 
ing of  our  departure,  but  he  did  not  come.  Our 
disappointment  was  extreme,  but  to  console  ourselves 
it  was  only  to  last  three  days.  There  were  other 
officers  and  men  who  were  not  quite  recovered  of 
their  wounds  who  were  confined  in  the  convent 
of  St.  Francisco,  whom  the  aide-de-camp  permitted 
us  to  visit.  The  account  of  their  treatment  answered 
in  a  manner  to  our  own.  Though  they  had  pretty 
good  dinners  given  to  them,  they  were  kept  very 
close  and  very  strict. 

During  my  confinement  I  was  extremely  pleased, 
and    I    may   say   flattered,    by    a    visit     from    my 


i.]  JOURNEY   TO   BAYONNE  315 

old  acquaintance  the  Marquis  of  Santiago,  the 
Marchioness,  her  two  sisters,  etc.  I  had  con- 
trived to  get  a  letter  conveyed  to  them  ;  but  my  old 
cicerone,  Don  Jose  Gelabert,*  formerly  Professor  of 
Rhetoric,  was  either  absent  from  the  city  or  was 
afraid  to  come.  Had  the  Marquis  been  a  politician 
like  his  father,  he  would  not  have  been  able  to  have 
done  me  the  honour.  They  were  all  much  shocked 
at  our  treatment.  The  Governor  of  the  Retiro, 
Colonel  Lafona,  was  very  civil,  but  he  was  not 
empowered  to  relax  in  rigour.  His  adjutant  was 
a  most  infernal,  ill-behaved,  rough,  ill-tempered 
wretch.  I  have  forgotten  his  name,  though  he 
belongs  to  the  63rd  Regiment.  I  would  recommend 
him  not  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  any  of  us,  for  should 
he,  per  hazard,  he  will  not  be  spared.  They  gave 
us  two  carts  at  Madrid,  and  we  marched  the  first 
day,  the  1 3th,  to  Guadamara  (seven  leagues).  We  did 
not  arrive  till  half-past  one  in  the  morning  of  the 
1 4th,  and  marched  again  at  seven  to  a  small  village 
called  Ottero  Derrero  (four  leagues),  where  we  arrived 
at  six  in  the  evening.  The  second  day  I  should 
mention  that  a  rascally  Spaniard  came  very  familiarly 
to  join  in  conversation  with  us.  I  called  him  a  traitor 
to  his  country  and  abused  him,  upon  which  he  went 
up  to  the  commandant,  a  colonel,  who  ordered  me 
to  march  in  the  advanced  guard  the  whole  day  :  the 
lying  scoundrel  told  him  that  I  had  offered  him 
money  to  enlist  with  us.  When  I  explained  the 
business  to  the  colonel  he  liberated  me,  especially 
as  the  story  was  so  improbable,  I  being  very  short  of 
cash ;  besides  which  I  told  him  that  I  would  not 
give  a  real  for  twenty  thousand  of  such  animals.  We 
marched  to  Segovia  (three  leagues)  on  the  i5th,  and 
arrived  about  two  o'clock. 

*  My  uncle  had  paid  a  visit  to  Madrid  in  November,  1808,  when 
Professor  Gelabert  had  taken  him  in  charge  and  shown  him  all 
the  "lions"  of  the  place — when  he  made  also  acquaintance  with 
the  Marquis  of  Santiago  and  his  family. 


316  SEGOVIA  [APPENDIX 

We  had  received  no  provisions  on  the  road,  most 
of  the  towns  being  totally  deserted  or  destroyed. 
Luckily  we  had  laid  in  a  good  stock  at  Madrid  on 
starting.  Here  (Segovia)  we  have  obtained  rations. 
The  colonel  is  extremely  kind,  is  a  native  of 
Martinique,  and  has  been  prisoner  in  England, 
where  he  says  he  was  sometimes  very  well  treated, 
at  other  times  quite  the  contrary.  He  had  been 
taken  by  the  late  Sir  John  Moore  in  the  West 
Indies  during  the  expedition  under  Sir  R.  Aber- 
cromby.  Here  is  to  be  seen  a  remarkably  fine  old 
aqueduct  and  a  fine  cathedral,  and  we  were  allowed 
to  go  out  with  an  officer  to  see  all  the  curiosities. 
At  present  we  are  attended  by  a  Hanoverian  officer, 
formerly  in  our  service,  who  is  very  attentive  to  us. 
We  are  now  two  leagues  from  St.  Ildefonso,  and 
cannot  go  to  see  it,  as  we  march  again  in  the 
morning  (i8th),  having  had,  as  you  may  perceive, 
one  day's  halt.  An  Irish  priest  who  lives  here  has 
been  to  call  on  us  :  he  had  lodged  in  his  house  last 
year  Lord  William  Bentinck  and  his  two  aides-de- 
camp, who  just  quitted  the  place  before  the  entry  of 
the  French,  collected  here  to  the  number  of  thirty 
thousand  men.  Hence  to  Valladolid  there  is  said 
to  be  great  danger  on  the  road  of  being  attacked 
by  brigands,  who  are  very  numerous.  They  consist 
of  deserters  from  the  French  army,  Spaniards,  etc. 
They  attacked  yesterday  a  party  of  twenty-eight 
dragoons,  and  killed  six  of  them.  We  are  not  safe 
any  part  of  the  way  to  Bayonne  :  particularly  about 
Burgos  there  is  considerable  danger.  We  are  very 
lucky  in  the  weather,  and  we  hope  to  get  to  the  end 
of  our  journey  before  the  rains  set  in.  Our  destina- 
tion is  said  to  be  either  Valenciennes  or  Verdun. 

VALLADOLID,  October  z\st. 

We  arrived  here  yesterday  about  three  o'clock  from 
Valdestillas  about  four  leagues,  having  passed  through 
Santa  Maria  della  Nieva,  Olmedo,  and  Valdestillas. 


I.]  VALLADOLID  3 1 7 

Nothing  very  extraordinary  occurred  on  the  road, 
excepting  that  a  duel  took  place  between  two 
French  officers,  one  of  whom  was  wounded  in  the 
face  by  a  sabre.  An  accident  happened  to  a  chef 
d'escadron,  who  ran  against  the  point  of  a  bayonet, 
which  penetrated  his  right  side  ;  but  the  wound  is, 
however,  not  dangerous.  From  the  latter  we  learnt 
the  disgraceful  and  unprincipled  conduct  of  three  of 
our  own  officers.  The  treatment  they  received  was 
unprecedented  in  point  of  kindness  and  attention. 
The  King  lent  them  a  carriage  of  his  own  ;  gave 
them  linen,  money,  and  as  much  liberty  as  possible. 
The  chef  d'escadron  who  commanded  the  escort 
denied  himself  luxuries  to  accommodate  them,  got 
them  milk  and  butter  for  breakfast,  gave  them  the 
best  lodgings  on  the  road,  and  took  the  second  best 
for  themselves.  Notwithstanding  all  these  favours 
they  took  the  opportunity  at  Vittoria  of  escaping. 
The  consequences  of  course  to  the  other  prisoners 
of  war  were  fatal,  for  the  King  keeps  them  close 
prisoners  at  Madrid,  and  orders  the  greatest  strict- 
ness to  be  used  towards  them.  Their  names  are 
to  be  given  to  me  to-day,  but  two  of  them  I  am 

almost  certain  I  know, , . 

On  our  arrival  here  we  were  placed  on  our  parole, 
and  to-day  we  are  to  have  the  honour  of  dining 
with  the  governor,  General  Kellermann.  This  town 
is  extremely  old  and  the  houses  hardly  fit  to 
inhabit  :  by  good  luck,  however,  I  got  a  very  good 
billet.  This  is  rather  a  classic  place  ;  it  puts  one  in 
mind  of  "  Gil  Bias."  If  you  look  at  the  map,  you  will 
see,  Penaflor,  Villa  Garcia,  etc.,  and  other  places 
mentioned  in  this  delightful  book. 

We  crossed  the  Duero  about   half-way   on    our 
yesterday's  journey.       I    have    met   here   with    an 
officer  of  the  Horse  Artillery  who  belonged  to  the 
advanced  guard  in  Leon  and  Galicia  in  pursuit  of 
the  English  army.     He  was  with  General  Colbert,. 


318  UNSAFE   ROADS  [APPENDIX 

who  was  killed  near  Villafranca.  We  have  had  a  long 
conversation  about  the  different  places.  The  retreat 
is  extremely  praised  by  all  the  French  officers,  and 
Napoleon  the  Great  himself  has  drunk  very  often 
to  the  memory  of  Sir  John  Moore.  He  reckons 
the  business  well  conducted  and  much  to  the  credit 
of  our  officers.  Near  Olmedo  we  were  attacked 
about  dusk  by  a  considerable  party  of  brigands,  who 
were  repulsed,  and  the  convoy  lost  nothing  :  our 
two  carts  were  nearly  the  last  arriving  at  the  town, 
and  in  great  danger  of  being  taken. 

No  letters  have  been  received  from  Madrid  for 
three  weeks,  all  the  couriers  having  been  assassinated. 
I  sent  Richard  to-day  to  the  hospital  with  some 
money  for  the  soldiers  of  my  regiment,  and  they 
would  not  let  him  out  again,  till  luckily  the  agent  for 
prisoners  came  in  and  liberated  him.  We  have 
strong  reports  here  of  a  battle  at  Salamanca,  in 
which  the  French  were  beaten  and  the  town  nearly 
destroyed.  A  relay  of  horses  arrived  here  this 
evening  for  the  Emperor.  We  are  in  great  hopes 
of  meeting  him  on  our  journey.  General  Sebastian 
is  said  to  have  arrived  here  also.  The  dinner  went 
off  with  eclat,  and  we  attended  the  general  and 
Colonel  Pelage,  the  commandant  of  our  escort,  to 
the  comedy,  which  of  all  things  of  the  kind  is  most 
miserable.  The  house  is  not  bad,  but  very  badly 
lighted  and  thinly  attended.  The  only  part  worthy 
of  notice  was  a  fandango  danced  in  honour  of  us 
and  at  our  particular  request.  The  general  speaks 
English  very  well.  There  is  another  general  here 
who  speaks  quite  like  an  inhabitant,  and  has  often 
been  in  England  :  I  forget  his  name.  They  all 
heartily  wish  themselves  back  in  France,  and  envy 
much  our  going  there. 

Eleven  couriers  have  been  stopped  by  the 
brigands  within  a  very  short  time  between  this  place 
and  Burgos.  We  expect  to  halt  there  to-morrow. 


i.]  A   DUEL  319 

BURGOS,  October  26th,  1809. 

We  halted  two  days  at  Valladolid.  During  our 
stay  there  the  two  French  officers  who  had  fought 
on  the  road  fought  again  :  one  with  the  collet  rouge 
had  been  wounded  in  the  face.  In  the  second 
affair  the  one  with  the  collet  jaune  was  wounded  in 
the  wrist  and  had  his  hand  amputated.  We  were 
three  days  on  the  road  to  Burgos — the  first  day  to 
Duenas,  the  second  to  Villadrigo,  and  the  third  here. 
This  is  a  most  beautiful  place,  and  contains  a  superb 
cathedral.  The  French  are  erecting  fortifications 
on  the  heights  near  the  town,  which  are  to  be 
mounted  with  fifteen  hundred  pieces  of  cannon. 
A  man  called  upon  us  to-day  who  had  a  carriage 
to  let  to  Bayonne  for  one  hundred  and  eighty 
dollars.  On  calling  upon  General  Thiebault,  the 
commander  of  Old  Spain,  stationed  here,  we  stated 
the  extreme  kindness  of  General  Kellermann  in 
allowing  us  to  be  upon  our  parole  and  giving  us  a 
coach,  and  hoped  that  General  T.  (who  gave  us 
a  most  agreeable  accueillemenf)  would  grant  us 
another  to  Bayonne,  mentioning  the  man  who  had 
wanted  us  to  hire  his  carriage.  We  are  in  hopes 
of  obtaining  it  for  nothing.  This  is  the  mode  that 
tax-gatherers  in  England  generally  act  in  for  the 
purpose  of  surcharging.  A  tax-gatherer  in  the 
North  of  England  was  caught  in  a  shower  of  rain 
and  took  refuge  near  the  door  of  a  lady's  house, 
who  very  humanely  offered  him  shelter.  On 
arriving  in  the  parlour,  he  saw  over  the  chimney- 
piece  a  stuffed  dog  in  a  square  glass.  He  asked 
first  how  long  it  had  been  dead.  The  poor  old 
woman,  with  tears  on  her  cheeks,  answered  about  a 
month.  "  And  pray,  madam,  how  long  had  you  that 
animal?"  "  Oh,  sir,  several  years."  Upon  which, 
the  shower  being  over,  the  gentleman  takes  his  hat, 
goes  home,  and  immediately  writes  out  a  surcharge 
for  the  dog  which  his  hospitable  hostess  had  had  for 


320  HEROIC   REMEDIES  [APPENDIX 

several  years.  We  are  very  badly  lodged  here  :  the 
house  is  an  inn,  the  landlord  a  Frenchman  ;  they 
give  us  nothing.  We  were  obliged  to  thrash  the 
waiter  last  night  before  he  would  give  us  a  candle.* 
At  Duenas  we  were  very  well  off  in  point  of 
lodgings  ;  but  at  Villadrigo,  a  ruined  village,  we  were 
indebted  for  cover  to  the  kindness  of  a  young  officer 
of  the  French  service  who  lost  his  arm  at  Talavera, 
by  name  Chambray,  45th  Regiment  of  the  line. 


BURGOS,  October 
We  have  obtained  from  Commandant  Brosse, 
who  commanded  the  escort  when  the  three  officers 
escaped,  the  names  of  those  officers  —  namely,  .  .  . 
Besides  their  bad  conduct  in  deserting  after  re- 
ceiving such  favour  from  the  King,  the  com- 
mandant had  laid  out  for  them  thirty-three  dollars, 
which  they  never  paid.  (  N  .  B.  —  They  were  all  natives 
of  Ireland.)  As  we  have  been  so  extremely  well 
treated,  we  propose  paying  it  at  Bayonne  and 
publishing  the  whole  circumstance  in  the  French  and 
English  papers  ;  for  the  ill  treatment  we  received, 
and  other  officers  continue  to  receive,  at  Madrid  is 
entirely  owing  to  their  having  run  away  in  that 
disgraceful  manner.  .  .  . 

There  is  at  this  place  a  battalion  of  the  Irish 
Legion.  Most  of  the  officers  speak  English  and  are 
very  civil  to  us.  Amongst  them  we  have  found 
out  many  notorious  rebels,  particularly  one  Allen, 
who  was  tried  at  Maidstone  and  escaped  from 
Ireland  in  1803.  He  and  another  kept  a  woollen- 

*  Young  Englishmen  were  given  in  those  days  to  heroic  remedies. 
My  father  used  to  tell  us  with  ill-suppressed  pride  that  he  always 
had  believed  that  it  was  his  brother  Frank  who  knocked  down 
Marshal  Victor  in  the  streets  of  Paris.  The  marshal,  in  plain 
clothes,  was  elbowing  his  way  very  rudely  and  inconsiderately 
along  the  crowded  pavement,  with  an  insolence  so  intolerable  and 
so  much  resented  by  the  bystanders  that  a  young  English  officer 
promptly  knocked  him  over. 


i.]  AN   UNPLEASANT   CIRCUMSTANCE  321 

draper's  shop  in  College  Green,  Dublin.  The 
English  officers  who  escaped  walked  over  about 
a  dozen  soldiers  fast  asleep,  got  out  of  a  two  pair 
of  stairs  window,  and  over  an  immensely  high  wall, 
on  the  top  of  which  they  left  a  loaf  of  bread. 
They  had  all  provided  themselves  with  habits  de 
bourgeois.  A  sailor  met  them  at  Vittoria  to 
conduct  them.  Speaking  Spanish,  he  contrived 
to  disguise  himself,  and  conducted  them  to  Bilbao, 
near  which  there  were  three  English  frigates. 

An  unpleasant  circumstance  occurred  yesterday 
at  the  prison  where  our  prisoners  are  confined.  A 
sergeant  of  the  Irish  Brigade,  who  had  belonged 
to  our  5oth  and  deserted  from  Lugo,  an  Irishman 
by  birth,  came  into  the  prison  to  drink  with  a 
parcel  of  soldiers'  wives,  got  drunk,  and  wanted 
to  enlist  the  prisoners  into  the  French  service. 
Some  words  ensuing,  and  consequently  blows,  this 
United  Irishman  drew  his  sword  and  cut  two  of 
our  soldiers  very  severely,  one  of  them  a  servant 
to  the  late  Captain  Bryan.  Upon  a  complaint 
being  made  to  the  French  commandant,  the  culprit 
is  to  be  broke  and  imprisoned  for  one  month.  .  .  . 

We  expect  to  get  the  above-mentioned  coach 
to  travel  in  to-morrow.  It  will  particularly  please 
me,  as  the  rascally  coquin  wanted  to  take  me  in, 
making  a  demand  of  one  hundred  and  eighty 
dollars  to  Bayonne.  We  have  found  here  fresh 
butter,  which  is  a  very  agreeable  novelty  to  us : 
in  France,  however,  we  shall  be  in  want  of  nothing. 
In  twelve  days  we  shall  be  at  Bayonne.  We 
visited  the  cathedral  yesterday,  the  finest  in  Spain. 
It  is  a  Gothic  structure — the  niches  are  very  great  ; 
and  although  the  town  has  been  pillaged,  the 
church  has  not,  on  account  of  Bonaparte's  having 
been  lodged  in  the  archbishop's  palace.  We  found 
a  chanoine  who  spoke  English  and  French,  a  well- 
informed  man,  who  conducted  us  about.  There  is 

21 


322  BURGOS  [APPENDIX 

a  most  beautiful  picture  of  Michael  Angelo's — the 
Virgin  Mary  and  our  Saviour,  with  two  angels 
crowning  Him.  The  background  is  also  remarkably 
fine.  In  this  city  great  respect  is  paid  to  the 
memory  of  a  famous  Spanish  general — El  Cid. 
There  is  a  monument  erected  to  his  memory  and 
that  of  his  wife.  They  also  showed  us  a  brush 
that  belonged  to  him  as  a  great  curiosity.  In  the 
cathedral  I  should  mention  that  there  is  a  most 
extraordinary  clock.  There  is  a  small  female 
figure  that  strikes  the  quarters,  and  a  figure  of  a 
man  in  a  red  coat  faced  with  sky  blue  and  gold 
lace  which  strikes  the  hours,  opening  his  mouth 
each  time  in  a  curious  manner. 

VITTORIA,  October  $\st. 

We  obtained  the  coach ;  but  the  scoundrel  as  it 
were  outwitted  us,  for  he  came  to  us  the  second 
evening  at  Bribiesca,  and  asked  us  at  what  time 
we  should  be  ready.  We  told  him  at  three  o'clock, 
but  the  cunning  thief  set  off  whilst  we  were  asleep 
at  two  o'clock.  This,  the  first  town  in  Spain,  in 
some  respects  better  than  even  Madrid,  is  full  of 
inhabitants,  and  the  shops,  which  are  of  all  kinds, 
are  open.  There  are  a  number  of  very  pretty 
girls,  and  there  is  said  to  be  good  society.  We 
are  now  come  to  a  very  mountainous  country,  and 
in  seven  days  we  shall  be  at  Bay  none.  On  my 
arrival  here  I  found  a  letter,  dated  "  Madrid, 
October  i4th,"  from  General  Doulbanne,  Chief  of 
the  Staff,  to  say  that  I  was  to  remain  at  Madrid 
or  return,  as  they  expected  to  receive  an  answer 
to  my  application  for  an  exchange.  I  have  shown 
the  letter  to  many  French  officers,  who  tell  me 
that  I  shall  certainly  obtain  it  in  about  a  fortnight. 
I  have  written  to  the  Minister  of  War  at  Paris  to 
tell  him  that  I  shall  wait  at  the  depot  in  France 
for  his  commands.  General  Bozer,  who  is  governor 


i.]  A   FIGHT   WITH   BRIGANDS  323 

of  this  town,  advised  me  to  go  to  France  in 
preference  to  returning  to  Madrid.  Of  course  I 
did  not  require  much  persuasion.  We  crossed  the 
Ebro  yesterday  :  in  that  part  it  is  not  very  broad, 
and  does  not  give  one  the  idea  of  the  finest  river 
in  Spain.  This  town  is  situated  in  an  extensive 
valley,  surrounded  by  an  infinity  of  small  villages, 
and  the  country  around  is  extremely  fertile.  We 
depart  to-morrow.  Our  lodgings  here  are  not 
good,  and  the  traiteurs  very  mediocre.  Near 
Miranda  the  advance  guard  of  our  army  surprised 
a  party  of  brigands,  sabred  fifteen,  and  took  two 
prisoners.  The  rest  escaped,  leaving  behind  eleven 
horses.  The  two  prisoners  were  immediately  shot. 
They  are  mostly  dressed  in  peasant  costume, 
and  they  have  no  saddles  to  their  horses.  I 
reported  the  coachman  who  had  run  away  with 
our  carriage  to  the  commandant  de  place,  and  told 
him  that  he  had  stolen  my  jackass,  which  was 
taken  out  of  the  stable  in  the  middle  of  the  night. 

VILLAREAL,  November  2nd. 

We  are  now  ten  leagues  from  Vittoria.  Last 
night  we  slept  at  Mondragon,  which  is  a  cheery 
village,  where  we  were  extremely  well  lodged,  and 
centrived  to  get  a  decent  dinner  at  an  Italian 
traiteur  for  seven  francs.  We  met  yesterday 
another  convoy  going  towards  Madrid  from 
Bayonne.  They  had  taken  two  brigands  and 
killed  two  others,  but  their  convoy  straggled  so 
much  that  they  lost  seven  carts  laden  with  different 
articles.  At  the  affair  near  Miranda,  M.  Marchand, 
aide-de-camp  to  Marshal  the  Duke  of  Elchingen, 
killed  two  brigands  with  his  own  hand.  I  was 
witness  to  the  whole  fight,  but  kept  a  very 
respectable  distance.  It  would  have  been  a  great 
sottise  for  an  unarmed  person,  especially  with  a 
gold-laced  coat,  to  expose  himself  too  near.  The 


324  INCIDENTS   OF  TRAVEL  [APPENDIX 

couriers  begin  now  to  travel  without  escort  as  we 
approach  the  frontier.  Yesterday  a  rascally  driver 
of  a  cotton  cart  was  very  impudent  to  Major  P., 
and  threatened  to  horsewhip  him.  I  had  him 
instantly  reported,  and  had  the  promise  of  his 
being  well  flogged  on  his  arrival.  To-day  a 
gendarme  was  insolent,  but  we  had  no  redress. 
I  advanced  this  morning  and  had  some  breakfast 
with  some  French  officers,  got  moderate  quarters, 
and  wrote  the  bons  for  our  provisions.  There 
is  a  Mr.  Pagett,  a  chef  d'escadron  of  the  Royal 
Guards  of  King  Joseph,  who  is  kind  and  attentive 
to  me.  He  was  formerly  made  prisoner  in  General 
Hoche's  expedition  to  Ireland.  On  our  arrival  at 
Bayonne,  we  are  to  have  a  grand  dinner  from  a 
party  of  officers,  of  whom  he  is  one.  The  Biscayan 
language  is  Basque,  or  rather  a  kind  of  patois 
Espagnol  (if  the  expression  is  allowable).  They 
are  altogether  a  better  and  cleaner  race  than  the 
Castilians.  A  sad  exchange  of  kingdoms  for  King 
Joseph,  who  was  adored  at  Naples,  not  to  mention 
the  difference  of  the  two  countries !  As  for  the 
Biscayan  language  above  mentioned,  it  is  with 
difficulty  that  I  can  understand  a  word,  though 
considerably  advanced  in  Spanish.  Settled  a  bet 
with  the  Doctor  that  the  Duke  of  Abrantes  was 
not  a  marshal,  which  I  won.  It  was  for  a  bottle 
of  Bordeaux,  which  the  Sangrado,  being  a  cunning 
rogue,  will  not  pay  till  we  get  to  France,  where  it 
is  cheaper. 

HERNANI,  November  tfh. 

At  Tolosa  yesterday  we  had  a  dinner  a  FAnglaise— 
namely,  some  strong  soup  and  a  leg  of  mutton, 
which  our  hostess  contrived  to  spoil  by  cutting  a 
large  gash  in  it  and  letting  out  all  the  gravy.  The 
town  is  not  bad ;  but  the  houses,  though  clean  and 
neat,  are  extremely  old.  We  arrived  here  this 


i.]  OUT   OF  CASH  325 

morning  well  wetted  :  it  has  rained  all  night  and  this 
morning  till  twelve  o'clock.  I  fear  the  rainy  season 
is  completely  set  in.  We  dine  to-day  at  a  French 
restaurateur  for  three  livres  and  ten  sous  a  head, 
but  it  must  be  the  last  time,  as  our  cash  is  totally 
expended,  having  nothing  amongst  us  but  an 
English  guinea,  a  half-guinea,  and  a  seven-shilling 
piece,  none  of  which  do  I  believe  they  will  take 
without  deducting  immensely  from  the  value.  The 
neighbourhood  abounds  with  chestnuts,  which  you 
get  in  the  greatest  perfection,  as  many  as  you  can 
hold  for  a  sol,  ready  washed.  Major  F.  sold  a 
horse  for  three  hundred  francs,  which  set  us  up  in 
cash,  and  enables  us  to  go  to  a  traiteur  again. 

IRUN,  November  $th. 

This  place  is  close  to  the  sea,  and  on  our  march 
this  morning  we  had  a  very  fine  view,  and  ex- 
perienced a  very  agreeable  sensation  at  the  sight. 
The  peasantry  are  very  handsome  and  clean,  most 
particularly  the  females,  who  wear  their  hair  platted 
in  a  long  queue,  which  has  a  very  neat  appearance. 
Apples  are  here  very  abundant,  of  which  they  make 
a  kind  of  cider,  which  is  not  very  palatable.  There 
is  also  French  beer,  which  is  very  inferior  to  our 
own.  This  is  the  last  town  in  Spain.  Within  the 
last  two  days  we  have  passed  the  Pyrenees,  which 
in  that  part  are  not  very  tremendous. 

BAYONNE,  November  bth. 

We  started  from  Irun  about  eight  o'clock,  and 
breakfasted  at  St.  Jean  de  Luz  at  a  very  decent 
house.  At  the  bridge  which  divides  the  two 
countries  all  our  effects  were  most  rigidly  inspected. 
Those  on  the  French  side  were  the  worse  behaved. 
They  cut  open  our  mattresses,  and  inspected  every 
portmanteau  to  the  very  bottom.  The  difference 
between  the  two  countries  is  soon  apparent.  On 


326  ARRIVAL   IN   FRANCE  [APPENDIX 

the  side  of  Bayonne  the  country  is  fertile  and  well 
peopled.  The  cottages  are  delightful,  and  the 
people  clean.  They  ride  in  a  curious  manner — a 
lady  in  each  pannier,  and  sometimes  one  in  the 
middle.  To  see  three  pretty  girls  on  one  horse 
in  that  manner  is  quite  delightful.  As  we  are  not 
likely  to  meet  any  adventures  of  a  very  striking 
cast  while  travelling  in  France,  I  here  conclude 
this  short  account,  which,  if  it  gives  pleasure  to 
any  of  my  friends,  will  have  answered  my  intention. 
Should  it  arrive  safe  in  England,  it  may  serve 
some  time  or  other  to  recall  to  my  memory  the 
different  places  I  passed  through. 


ii.]  EXCHANGE  OF  PRISONERS  327 


APPENDIX   II. 

Letters  from  Captain  Husson  to  Dr.  Jenner,  and  from  Dr.  Jenner  to 
Sir  Francis  Milman,  relating  to  Captain  Milman's  release  by 
exchange  of  Prisoners. 

MONSIEUR, — 

J'ai  1'honneur  de  vous  pre"venir  que  je  viens 
de  recevoir  une  lettre  de  mon  frere  (datde  de  Paris, 
2  Aout)  concernant  la  liberte*  du  Captn.  Milman  et 
dont  je  m'empresse  de  vous  en  donner  un  extrait 
dans  lequel  vous  verrez  qu'il  est  tres  possible  que 
nous  soyons  tous  deux  mis  en  liberte1  sous  le  plus 
court  delai,  mais  le  Dr.  Husson  ddsirerait  avant 
de  finir  cette  affaire  que  vous  eussiez  la  parole 
d'honneur  du  Transport  Office  specifiant  que  je 
serai  mis  en  liberte*  aussitot  I'arrive'e  du  Captn. 
Milman.  Comme  j'ai  envoy 6  votre  lettre  a  ce 
sujet  au  Dr.  Husson  j'ose  croire  que  s'il  l'a  re$ue 
il  sera  satisfait. 

Ne*anmoins  d'apres  la  lettre  de  mon  frere  il 
paraitrait  que  le  mdmoire  que  vous  avez  envoye* 
il  y  a  trois  mois  au  Gouvernement  fra^ais  pour 
la  liberte*  de  Monsr.  Milman  n'est  point  parvenu 
et  a  e*te"  e'gare',  puisqu'il  vous  prie  de  Taider  aupres 
de  son  Gouvernement. 

Si  done  vous  voulez  avoir  la  complaisance  de 
refaire  votre  me'moire  pour  mon  Gouvernement 
demandant  la  liberte"  du  fils  de  votre  ami  je  vous 
prierais  de  1'envoyer  a  M.  de  Crespigny  qui  ayant 
souvent  des  occasions  pour  France  le  ferait  parvenir 
de  suite  a  mon  frere,  qui  1'attend  pour  terminer 
1'affaire  de  concert  avec  votre  ami  le  Dr.  Corrisart. 


3  28  DR.   JENNER  [APPENDIX 

Oui,  monsieur,  je  n'ai  pas  le  moindre  doute  que 
d'ici  a  trois  mois  Mr.  Milman  et  moi  serons  rendus 
a  nos  patries  si  votre  me'moire  ainsi  que  la  parole  du 
Transport  parviennent  au  Dr.  Husson. 

Daignez  faire  part  de  cette  nouvelle  a  Sir  F. 
Milman  votre  ami,  et  le  prier  de  s'interesser  pour 
qu'on  me  remette  sur  parole  jusqu'a  cette  affaire 
soit  terminee,  et  ce  pour  cause  de  ma  mauvaise  sante 
me  trouvant  toujours  a  1'hopital.  Vous  obligierez 
infiniment,  monsieur,  celui  qui  a  1'honneur  d'etre, 
avec  le  plus  profond  respect, 

Votre  plus  devoue  et  reconnaissant  serviteur, 

E.  HUSSON. 

Extrait  de  la  lettre  du  Dr.  Husson  en  date  de  2  Aout. 


Je  fais  les  demarches  pour  le  Captn.  Milman.  II 
est  tres  possible  que  je  reussisse  ;  mais  le  Transport 
Office  consentira-t-il  a  te  renvoyer  quand  je  lui  aurai 
rendu  ce  gentilhomme  ?  L'e'ternelle  raison  que  tu 
as  manque  a  ta  parole  ne  viendra-t-elle  pas  encore 
s'opposer  a  ce  que  ces  promesses  verbales  soient 
re*alise*es  ?  J'ai  ecrit  au  Dr.  Jenner  que  je  ne  mettrais 
la  derniere  main  a  cette  affaire  que  quand  il  aurait 
cette  promesse  e*crite.  J 'attends  la  re*ponse  du 
Dr.  Jenner  pour  agir  de*finitivement  et  pour  qu'il 
m'aide  dans  cette  affaire  pres  du  Gouvernement 
frangais.  Aussi,  mon  cher  Eugene,  du  courage. 
J'espere  re*ussir  a  rendre  Mr.  Milman  a  sa  famille  si 
le  Dr.  Jenner  me  seconde. 

Forwarding  this  letter  to  Sir  Francis  Milman, 
Dr.  Jenner  writes  : — 

DEAR  SIR, — 

I  received  the  enclosed  by  yesterday's  post 
from  Captain  Husson,  and  congratulate  you  on  the 
cheering  prospect  it  holds  up. 


IL]  THE  TRANSPORT   BOARD  329 

The  letter  which  I  sent  through  you  to  Captain 
Husson,  and  which,  it  would  seem,  is  now  in  the 
hands  of  his  brother  in  Paris,  I  meant  as  a  memorial 
to  the  French  Government.  But  it  appears  that 
something  more  direct  is  required.  The  business 
with  the  Transport  Board  I  must  leave  to  you,  and 
presume  you  will  find,  after  what  you  communicate 
to  me  on  the  subject,  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  the 
pledge.  Dr.  Husson's  letter,  alluded  to  by  his 
brother,  has  not  yet  reached  me.  I  had  better 
perhaps  wait  a  few  posts  for  its  arrival  before  I  send 
my  memorial,  as  this  letter  may  furnish  me  with 
some  useful  hints.  With  regard  to  Captain  Husson's 
removal  from  the  Prison  Ship,  I  should  hope,  as  he 
is  lingering  under  a  wretched  state  of  health,  that 
the  Transport  Board  would  in  mercy  allow  him  the 
benefit  of  a  little  sweet  air.  Your  interest  there  I 
trust  may  affect  this. 

I  remain,  dear  sir,  with  best  wishes  for  the 
restoration  of  your  son, 

Your  obliged  and  faithful  servant, 

EDWARD  JENNER. 

CHELTENHAM,  August $ist,  1813. 


INDEX 


ABBOTS  Kerswell,  4 
Abercromby's  expedition,  Sir  R., 

316 

Abergwili,  151 
Abrantes,  the  Duke  of,  324 
Acland,  Sir  Thomas,  108 
Agassiz,  saying  of,  90 
"Aids   to    Faith,"   article    on,   in 

Eraser's  Magazine,  278 
"Alastor,"     article     on,     in     the 

Quarterly  Review ',  80 
Albano,  256 
Albemarle    Street,    a   dinner    in, 

117,  118 

Alderson,  Baron,  1 19 
Alderson,  Lady,  124 
Allen,  the  rebel,  320 
Allied  Sovereigns,  visit  of,  to 

Oxford,  27-30 
Amalfi,  255 

Ammon,  Christopher  F.,  153 
Andromaque     at      the      Theatre 

Francais,  49 

Anglesey,  Marquis  of,  112 
Angouleme  and  Berri,  Dukes  of, 

47 
"Annals  of  St.  Paul's,"  the,  171, 

233,  241,  i^etseq. 
Anne  Boleyn,  57 
Apollo  Belvidere,  the,  23 
Appian  Way,  the,  258 
Arnold,  Matthew,  213 
Arnold,  Thomas,  5 1  (note),  94 


Arsenics,  the  Archimandrite,  49 
Ashburnham    House,     136,     137,. 

163 

Ashburnham,  Lord,  136 
Athanasian  Creed,  the,  286,  287 
Austin,  Mr.  John,  186;  death  of, 

197,  199 
Austin,  Mrs.,  correspondence  with 

Milman,  148-150,  178-187,  I97r 

202-207 


BAMPTON  Lectures,  the,  106,  107, 
108 

Bancroft,  Mr.,  159;  on  the  "His- 
tory of  Latin  Christianity,"  230 

Bantry  Bay,  73 

Bardeleben,  Madame  de,  185 

Barnes,  Dr.,  Sub-Dean  of  Christ 
Church,  28 

Bathurst,  Colonel,  1 1 

Bear  Island,  73 

Beaufort,  Duke  of,  20 

Belmeis,  Richard  de,  297 

Belsham,  Thomas,  203  (note) 

Belshazzar,  57,  59,  62 

Benson,  Rev.  Christopher,  88 

Bentinck,  Lord  William,  316 

Bentley,  Dr.,  136 

Berry,  Miss,  147,  184;  funeral  of,. 
179 

Bertrand,  Madame,  47 

Biscayan  language,  324 


331 


332 


INDEX 


Bitton,  6 

Blomfield,    Bishop    (of  London), 

167 
Blucher,   Field-Marshal    General, 

31 

Boothby,  Captain,  1 1  (note) 
Borgo,  Pozzo  di,  128 
Boston,  U.S.A.,  education  in,  174 
Bouvet,  Admiral,  73,  74 
Bowles,  Mr.,  20 
Bowood,  151,  177,  1 80,  189 
Bozer,  General,  322 
Braye,  Frideswide,  6 
Braye,  the  first  Lord,  6 
Braye,  Sir  Reginald,  6 
Braye,  Sir  Richard,  physician   to 

Henry  VI.,  5 
Brest,  73,  74 
Bribiesca,  322 
Brigands,  a  fight  with,  323 
Bristol,  6 

British  Critic,  the,  145 
Brodie,  Dr.,  124 
Brosse,  Commandant,  320 
Brougham,  Mr.,  70,  84 
Buchanan,  Mr.,  192,  193 
Bulwer,  Lytton,  128 
Bunsen's  Hippolytus,  186;  home, 

190 

Burgos,  316,  318,  319 
Burke  and  Hare,  55 
"  Burnet  on  the  Articles,"  280 
Burney,  Dr.  Charles,  12,  13 
Burrows,  Prof.  Montague,  208 
Burton,  Prof.  Edward,  257,  258 
Burton,  Sir  Frederick,  8 
Butler,  Archdeacon  S.,  86 
Butler,  Dean,  172 
Byron,  Lord,  58,  80 
Bystram,  Count,  158 


CAIRNS,  Rev.  John,  211 
Campbell,  Lord,  243 
Campbell,  Miss,  35 
Canning,  George,  108 


Canossa,  231  (note),  281 
Caradori,  Madame,  at  Oxford,  109 
Carbery,  Lord,  151 
Cardwell,  Rev.  Edward,  106,  107, 

H5 

Carlisle,  Lord,  141,  164 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  94  ;  and  Froude, 

211 

Caroline,  Queen,  69 

Castel  di  Sangro,  255 

Catacombs,  the,  260 

Cathedrals  of  England,  299 

Catholic  question,  the,  109  et  seq. 

Cawdor,  Lord,  151 

Chandler,  Mr.,  106 

Channing,  Dr.,  174 

Chantrey,  Sir  F.,  130 

"Chants  Bretons,"  Villemarque's, 

158 

Chard  mills,  7 

"  Charles  V.,"  Prescott's,  192 
Charlotte,    Queen,    and    Francis 

Milman,  3,  52 
Chatterton,  Lady,  158 
Chelsea  old  church,  7 
Chevalier,  M.,  46,  48 
Chicheley  Professorship,  the,  208 
Christian  Knowledge  Society,  the, 

88,  101 
Christian     Remembrancer,     the, 

294  (note) 
Church,    Dean,    his    opinion    of 

the  "History  of    Latin  Chris- 
tianity," 225,  226 
Circourt,  the  Count  de,  155,  157, 

184,  185 

Clarendon,  Lord,  179 
Clarke,  Mary  Anne,  46 
Clerical  Subscription  Commission, 

the,  244,  245 
Clinton,  Fynes,  136 
Club,  the,  162,  163 
Cockell,   Lieut.-General  William, 

70-72 

Cockell,  Miss  Harriet,  Iio 
Colbert,  General,  317 


INDEX 


333 


Colenso,  Bishop,  267,  278,  279, 
280,  284,  285,  288  ;  his  Defence 
Fund,  268,  269 

Coleridge,  John  Taylor,  after- 
wards Sir,  15,  1 6,  20,  21,  25,  31, 
38-40,  76,  77,  81;  his  early 
dinner-hour,  128 ;  his  Memoir 
of  Keble,  215 

Colet,  Dean,  171 

Compton,  Bishop  Henry,  300 

Comptons,  the,  65 

Comte,  Auguste,  156 

"  Conquest  of  Mexico,"  Prescott's, 

175 

Consistory  Court,  the,  305 
Consort,  H.R.H.  Prince,  235 
Convocation,      280,      288 ;      and 

Catholic  claims,  113 
Copleston,    Dr.,    112,    131,    172; 

death  of,  167 
Cotton,  Bishop,  286,  287 
Cotton,    Sir    Robert,    library    of, 

136 

"  Council  of  Constantinople,"  the, 

285,  286 

Cousin,  Victor,  157,  185 
Cranworth,  Lord,  246 
Craufurd,  Major-General  Catlin,  8 
Cumberland,  Duke  of,  no,  128 
Cureton,  Dr.,  147 


DALTON,  the  Quaker,  116,  127 

Dam  as,  46 

Danube,  the,  190 

Dartington,  222 

Davidson,  Dr.,  129 

Dawson,  George,  no,  in 

Denison,  George,  281 

De  Pech6s  family,  the,  5 

Derby,  Lord,  his  election  at 
Oxford,  183;  his  resignation, 
184;  his  translation  of  the 
"  Iliad,"  212-214 

Diceto,  Radulf  de,  171 

Doctors'  Commons,  171 


Donne,  Dean,  172,  296,  302,  303 

304 

Doulbanne,  General,  322 
Dropmore  Hill,  105 
Drury,  Rev.  H.,  86 
Duchesnois,  Madame,  49,  50 
Duel,  a,  319 
Duenas,  319,  320 
Duero,  the,  317 
Duff,  General  Sir  James,  73 
Dukinfield,   Rev.    Sir  H.  R.,    16,. 

1 10,  117 

Duncan,  Phil,  127 
Dunoyer,  M.,  156,  157 
Dyer  family,  the,  4 
Dyer,  Richard,  4 
Dyke,  Sir  William  Hart,  Bart.,  5 


EARLE,  Christopher,  89  (note) 

Early  Court,  52 

East  Ogwell,  4 

Eastlakes,  the,  164,  290 

Ebro,  the,  323 

Edinburgh  Review >,  the,  186,  28 1, 

285    (note);     and    Mrs.    Opie, 

124 

Edinburgh  Reviewers,  the,  48 
Education  of  the  people,  Milman's 

interest  in,  145 
Egan,  Surgeon,  10,  313 
Elchingen,  Duke  of,  323 
Eldon,  Lord,  20,  52 
Eliot,  Mr.,  109 
Ellesmere,  Lord,  183 
Elliot,  Miss,  211 
Elphinstone,  Mountstuart,  200 
English      officers,       unprincipled 

conduct  of,  317 
Epigrams  at  Westminster,  214 
"Essays  and  Reviews,"  267,  268, 

288 

Essex,  Lord,  30 
Eton  in  1802,  13 
Everett,  Mr.,  159;  correspondence 

with  Milman,  160 


334 


INDEX 


''European   Morals,   History  of," 

3ii 

Exeter  College,  Devonshire 
Scholarship  at,  4 ;  feeling  at, 
towards  J.  A.  Froude,  210 

Exeter  Hall,  239 


FABER,  Dr.,  283 

Fall  of  Jerusalem,  the,  56,  59 

Family  Library,  Murray's,  83,  92, 
98,  99,  100 

"  Fasti  Hellenic!,"  the,  136 

Faussett,  Rev.  Dr.,  89,  90,  92 

Fazakerleys,  the,  128 

Fazio,  33-37,  51 

Fergusons,  the,  181 

Fergusson,  Mr.,  300 

FitzClarence,  Lord  A.,  113,  129 

Florence,  262 

Fothringham,  Major,  10,  313 

Fraser's  Magazine,  145,  248,  278  ; 
on  Milman's  character,  309 

French  books,  cheapness  of,  50 

Friend,  Dr.,  137 

Froude,  Archdeacon,  209,  222 

Froude,  J.  A.,  208 ;  affection  of,  for 
Milman,  211  ;  dinner  given  at 
his  house,  211  ;  his  opinion 
of  the  "History  of  Latin 
Christianity,"  224 ;  Newman's 
influence  over,  208,  209 

"Fiirsten,"  Ranke's,  153 


GABELL,  DR.,  114 

Gagarin,  Prince,  28 

Gelabert,  Don  Jose,  315 

George  III.,  King,  his  physician, 

5,232 

George,  Mademoiselle,  46 
German  literature,  1 53 
Gibbon,   Edward,    90,    130 ;    the 

annotated  edition  of,  100,   101, 

102,  143 
Gifford,  Mr.,  75,  76 


Gladstone,  W.  E.,  180 
Gloucester,   the   Bishop   of,     134, 

135 

Golden  Grove,  1 5 1 
Gooch,  Dr.,  107 
Goodall,  Dr.,  13,  14,  15,  18,  19 
Goodwin,  Dr.,  245 
Gorges,  Sir  A.,  7  (note) 
Goss,  Mr.,  organist  of  St.  Paul's, 

afterwards  Sir  John  Goss,  235 
Grenville,  Lord,  installation  of,  20, 

21  ;  presents  books  to  Milman, 

22  ;  a  reminiscence  of,  104 
Grote,  Mr.  George,  159,  243 
Grouchy,  General,  73 
Guadamara,  315 
Guardian,  the,  285,  287 

Guizot,  M.,  156,  159,  185,  207,  247 


HAHN-HAHN,  Countess,  158 

Halford,  Sir  H.,  30 

Hall,  Basil,  118 

Hallam,  Henry,  127,  163,  164; 
death  of  his  son,  177  ;  death  of, 
199 

Hamiltons,  the,  65 

Hammond,  Mr.,  118 

Hare,  Augustus  W.,  51  (note) 

Harness,  William,  14,  15,  81,  84, 
101  ;  correspondence  with  Mil- 
man, 19,  21,  26,  84,  98 

Hart  family,  the,  5 

Hart,  Frances,  5/7  ;  marriage,  7 

Hart,  George,  6 

Hart,  John,  5,  6 

Hart,  Sir  Percival,  5 

Hart,  Sir  Richard,  6 

Hart,  William,  of  Stapleton,  5,  6 

Hart,  William  (second),  7 

Hastings,  Warren,  24 

Hawkins,  Edward,  51  (note) 

Hawtrey,  Dr.,  147,  170,  205,  213; 
death  of,  201,  202 

Hay  ward,  Abraham,  158 

Heber,  Mrs.,  115 


INDEX 


335 


Heber,  Reginald,  77,  108,  121  ;  his 
opinion  of  Milman's  poems,  57 ; 
his  "  Palestine,"  23 ;  his  collec- 
tion of  hymns,  58,  59 

Heber,  Richard,  61 

"  Hebrew  Prophecy,"  Milman's 
sermon  on,  96,  97 

Hemans,  Mrs.,  120,  122,  123; 
Procida;  or,  the  Sicilian 
Vespers,  by,  121,  123 

Herford,  Dr.,  his  criticism  of  Dean 
Milman's  literary  work,  227 

High  and  Low  Church,  182 

High  Church  party,  281 ;  attitude 
of,  towards  Milman's  "  History 
of  the  Jews,"  87  ;  their  relation 
to  the  Crown,  25 1 

Hippolytus,  Bunsen's,  186 

"  History  of  Early  Christianity," 
the,  98,  99,  100,  145,  225 

"History  of  Latin  Christianity," 
the,  82, 93,  143,  144, 145, 168, 189, 
229,  281;  completion  of,  223; 
Dean  Church's  opinion  of, 
225,  226 ;  Dean  Stanley's  and 
Froude's  opinion  of,  224 ;  its 
popularity  in  America,  230 ; 
stereotyped  edition  of,  231 

"  History  of  the  Jews,"  the,  53, 
56,  83,  84-98,  143,  250 

Hobhouse,  Cam,  130 

Hoche,  General,  his  attempted 
invasion  of  Ireland,  72,  73 

Hodson,  Rev.  Fordsham,  28 

Holland,  Dr.,  164,  176 

Holland,  Rev.  Mr.,  118 

Holmes,  Billy,  128 

Holmwood,  232 

Horace,  Milman's  Life  and  edition 
of  the  works  of,  143,  161 

Howley,  Archbishop,  51 

Hunt,  the  editor  of  the  Examiner, 
48 

Hunter,  Sir  Claudius,  70 

Husson,  Captain,  12;  his  letters 
to  Dr.  Jenner,  327 


"  ILIAD  "  of  Homer,  Lord  Derby's 

translation  of  the,  212 
Ingersoll,  Mr.,  184 
Inglis,  Sir  R.,  108,  109 
Inspiration,  the  theory  of,  276 
Irish  Brigade,  a  sergeant  of  the, 

321 

Irish  Legion,  the,  320 
Irun,  325 
Irving,  Washington,  death  of,  200 


JAMES  I.  and  II.,  Kings,  recep- 
tion of,  at  Oxford,  28,  29 

Jeffrey,  Lord,  127,  184 

Jekyll,  rhyme  by,  127 

Jenner,  Dr.,  u,  12  (note);  his 
letters  to  Sir  Francis  Milman, 
328 

Jones,  Inigo,  136,  137,  298,  299 

Joseph  Bonaparte,  King,  314,  324 


KATRINE,  Loch,  tourists  at,  26,  27 

Keate,  Dr.,  13,  14,  15 

Keble,  John,  51  (note),  60,  217, 

218-222  ;  public  neglect  of,  216 
Keble    Memorial,    the,  216,    219, 

220,  221,  222 
Kellermann,  General,  9,   n,  317, 

319 
Kemble,  Charles,  34,  36,  121,  122, 

123 

Kemble  family,  the,  120 
Kemble,  Miss,  35,  36 
Kerr,  Mrs.  Bellenden,  186 
King's  Library,  the,  136 
Knight,  Sir  George,  6 
Knyvett,  Mrs.  William,  at  Oxford, 

109 
Koslowski,  Prince,  23 


LABEDOYERE,  trial  of,  47 
Labouchere,  Mr.,  127 
Lacaita,  Sir  James,  253 


INDEX 


"Lady  of  the  Lake,"  the,  19 
Lafona,  Colonel,  315 
Langlet,  the  Orientalist,  46,  48 
Lansdovvne    House,    a   party  at, 

128 

Lansdowne,  Lord,  184 
Lansdowne,  Lord  and  Lady,  151, 

158,  163 

Lardner,  Dr.,  89,  99 
Laud,  Bishop,  298 
Lawrence,  Mr.  191 
Lea,    H.  C.,  on  the  "History  of 

Latin  Christianity,"  230 
Le  Bas,  Rev.  Charles  Webb,  88 
Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  his  tribute  to 

Milman's  memory,  311 
Lectionary,  revision  of  the,  237 
"  Lectures  on  the  Jewish  Church," 

Dean  Stanley's,  93  (note) 
Lefevre,  Mrs.,  130 
Legge,  Bishop,  51 
Levaton  in  Woodland,  4 
Lewis,  Sir  George  Cornewall,  285 
Liddell,  Dr.,  128,  147 
Literary  men,  deaths  of,  199,  200 
Little,  Mr.,  184 
Lloyd,  Mr.,  1 8,  1 06 
Lockhart,  Mr.,  79,  83,  85,  97,  117, 

119,  1 64  (note);  Andrew  Lang's 

Life  of,  79 

Long  Chamber  at  Eton,  life  in,  17 
Longfellow,  H.  W.,  162 
Longley,  Charles  T.,  Archbishop 

of   Canterbury,    51    (note),   87, 

215,  245;  correspondence  with 

Milman,  216-222,  237 
Longley,  Sir  Henry,  51  (note) 
Longueville,  Madame  de,  Cousin's, 

1 86 

Louvre,  a  visit  to  the,  46,  47 
Lowndes,  Mr.,  26 
Lowth's    "  Lectures    on   Hebrew 

Poetry,"  Bishop,  296 
Lullingston,  5 
Liittichau,  Madame  de,  185 
Luttrell,  Mr.,  127 


Lyell,  Lady,  194 

Lyell,  Sir  Charles,  90,  283  ;  corre- 
spondence with  Dean  Milman, 
270,  284 

Lyells,  the,  164,  174 


McCAUL,  Dr.,  270 

Macaulay,  afterwards   Lord,   147, 

164,  170,  243;  funeral  of,  199; 

biography    of,   by   Sir    George 

Trevelyan,  201  ;  Dean  Milman's 

memoir  of,  201  ;   popularity  of 

his  "  History  of  England,"  160, 

161,  1 88;  Sydney  Smith's  name 

for,  128 

Macmillaris  Magazine,  262,  265 
Macready,  162 
Madrid,  Captain  Milman's  arrival 

at,  313 

"  Mahabharata,"  the,  64 
Mahon,  Lady,  158 
Mahon,  Lord,  163 
Manning,  afterwards  Cardinal,  283 
Mant,  Bishop,  92 
Mapledurham,  113,  202 
Marchand,  M.,  323 
Marldon,  4 

Mars,  Mademoiselle,  50 
Martineau,  Mr.,  203,  204 
Martyr  of  Antioch,  the,  57,  58,  62, 

123 

Maurice,  Bishop  of  London,  297 
Maurice,  Mr.,  279 ;  his  views  on 

eternity  of  punishment,  267 
Max      Miiller,      Professor,      on 

Milman's  sermon  on  "  Hebrew 

Prophecy,"  97 
Melbourne,  Lord,  144,  167 
Mellitus,  Bishop,  297 
"  Memorials      of      Westminster 

Abbey,"  the,  293 
Menander,     Guillaume     Guizot's, 

192 

Mignet,  M.,  291 
Milburn,  Mr.,  194 


INDEX 


337 


Miller,  Mr.,  118 

Milman,  Archibald,  C.B.,  7  (note) 

Milman  chapel,  the,  7 

Milman,  Charles  Louis  Hart, 
death  of,  161  (note) 

Milman  family,  connection  with 
Exeter  College,  4;  pedigree 
of,  3,  4 

Milman,  Frances  Emily,  7 ;  death 
of,  8 

Milman,  Francis,  afterwards  Sir, 
3 ;  physician  to  George  III.,  1 1  ; 
parentage,  4 ;  marriage,  7 

Milman,  Francis  Miles,  7 ;  his 
diary,  313-326;  enters  the 
army,  8 ;  in  the  Peninsular  War, 
8,  9 ;  experiences  as  a  prisoner 
in  Spain,  9,  10,  1 1  ;  in  France, 
1 1  ;  return  to  England  and  pro- 
motion, 12 

Milman,  Henry  Hart,  Dean, 
American  friendships  of,  159; 
ancestry,  3  et  seq.\  Bampton 
Lecturer,  106 ;  his  belief,  229; 
burial,  308 ;  children's  grave, 
166;  elected  to  the  Club,  162, 
163  ;  correspondence  with  Mrs. 
Austin,  148  et  seq.,  178-187, 
197,  202-207,  with  Coleridge, 
40,  60,  76,  77,  with  Mr.  Everett, 
1 60,  with  Sir  Charles  Lyell, 
270,  with  Mr.  Lockhart,  88, 

98,  with  Dr.  Longley,  216-222, 
237,    with  Mr.  Murray,  87,  89, 

99,  with  Mr.  Prescott,  174,  176, 
187-193,  with  his  sister  Emily, 
1 8,   19,  23,  24,  30,  34,   45,  65, 
with  Dean  Stanley,  93,  246,  264, 
278-283,  285,  with  Mr.  Ticknor, 
J73»    I95»    I9%>   vvitn  his    wife, 
104  et  seq. ;    partial    deafness, 
306 ;  takes  his  degree,  51;  his 
religious   dramas,    57,    58,    59 ; 
education,  12  et  seq.,  views  on, 
252  ;   edits   Gibbon's  "  Decline 
and  Fall,"  100,  101,  102;  family 


bereavements,  160,  165 ;  his 
tragedy  Fazio,  33  ;  enters  Holy 
Orders,  51;  on  "  Hebrew  Pro- 
phecy," 96 ;  History  of  Early 
and  Latin  Christianity  (see 
"  History  ")  ;  denounced  for 
holding  heretical  opinions,  86  ; 
honours  conferred  on,  290, 
291  ;  illness  and  death,  307  ; 
impressiveness  of  his  reading, 
236,  237  ;  comparison  of  Latin 
and  Teutonic  Christianity,  227, 
228;  love  of  travel,  252;  literary 
work,  143 ;  marriage,  70 ;  matri- 
culation at  Brasenose,  19 ; 
monument  to,  312;  Oxford 
avocations,  103,  offices  held  at, 
60,  1 08,  115,  prizes  taken  at, 
22;  on  Peel's  election  com- 
mittee,! 10 ;  interview  with  Peel, 
135  ;  Prescott's  opinion  of,  194  ; 
poems,  16,  23,  33,  37,  38,  42, 
56,  58,  59 ;  connection  with  the 
Quarterly  Review,  64,  75,  80, 
82,  120,  145 ;  preface  to  the 
Translation  of  Ranke,  205  ; 
appointed  Rector  of  St.  Mar- 
garet's, Westminster,  131,  to 
St.  Mary's  Vicarage,  Reading, 
52,  56,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  167, 
168-171 ;  his  epic  "  Samor,"  37, 
38,  42  ;  attachment  to  his  sister 
Emily,  8 ;  friendship  with  Dean 
Stanley,  262,  263 ;  tours  in 
France,  45,  Italy,  65,  177,  255, 
Germany,  190,  Scotland,  181  ; 
trustee  of  the  British  Museum, 
291  ;  interest  in  Westminster 
School,  146;  life  at  West- 
minster, 137  ;  his  works,  16,  23, 
33.  38,  42,  53.  56-59.  82-100, 
143-145,  161,  1 68,  189,  223- 
231 

Milman,  Mrs.  H.  H.,  nee  Mary 
Anne  Cockell,  70,  71  ;  letters 
to,  103,  104,  105,  et  seq. 

22 


338 


INDEX 


Milman,  Robert,  afterwards  Bishop 
of  Calcutta,  4,  40,  41 

Milman,  Thomas,  4 

Milman,  William  George,  after- 
wards Sir,  7 ;  death  of,  260, 
261 

Milnes,  Monckton,  158 

Miranda,  323 

Mitford,  Miss,  56,82,  120,  132,  165 

Modbury  Church,  4 

Mole,  M.  de,  156,  158 

Molesworth,  Sir  William,  180 

Mondragon,  323 

Mont  Cenis,  262 

Monteagle,  Lord,  152 

Montgomery,  Robert,  81  ;  Macau- 
lay's  review  of,  81 

Moore,  Sir  John,  316,  318 

Moore,  T.,  53 ;  Lord  John 
Russell's  Life  of,  184 

More,  Hannah,  24 

More,  Sir  Thomas,  7  (note) 

Morpeth,  Lord,  164,  17$ 

Motley,  Mr.,  159 

Murchison,  Sir  Roderick,  171 

Murchisons,  the,  164 

Murray,  John,  62,  75,  79,  83,  84, 

85,98,    102,    117,    120,    205,    206, 

212,    213,   223,    231,    278;    Mr. 
Smiles'  Memoir  of,  79,  83 
Murray,  Miss,  118 


"NALA  and  Damayanti,"  63 

Napier,  Sir  Joseph,  245,  246,  247 

Naples,  65,  255 

Napoleon,  47,  318 

National  Gallery,  Royal  Commis- 
sion on  the,  290 

Nazianzen,  Gregory,  287 

Nelson's  funeral,  234 

Newcastle,  Duke  of,  1 10 

Newman,  Dr.,  145,  178,  217  (note), 
283 ;  influence  over  J.  A. 
Froude,  208,  209 

Newton,  Dean,  172 


Ney,  Marshal,  arrest  of,  47 
Nicolopoulo,  M.,  46,  49 
"No  Popery  "cry,  178 
"Noctes  Ambrosianae,"  the,  23 
North,  Christopher,  on   Milman's 

poems,  57  ;  on  prize  poems,  23 
North,  Frederick,  46,  48 
Norton,  Professor,  his  "  Evidences 

of    the     Genuineness     of    the 

Gospels,"  173 
Nottingham,  riots  at,  24 
Nowell,  Alexander,  Dean,  172 


OBER  -  AMMERGAU,  the  Passion 
Play  at,  262,  264-266 

Ogilvie,  Charles  A.,  5 1  (note) 

Oldenburg,  Grand  Duchess  of,  visit 
of,  to  Oxford,  27 

Olivera,  Mr.,  55 

Olmedo,  318 

Omnibus  fares,  130 

O'Neill,  Miss,  as  Bianca,  35 

Ongaro,  SignorDel'.  37 

Opie,  Mrs.,  123 

Origin  of  species,  the  Lamarckian 
and  Darwinian  theory  of,  271 

Orleans,  Duchess  of,  183 

Ottero  Derrero,  315 

Oxford,  Commemoration  at,  108 ; 
High  and  Low  Church  feeling 
at,  183  ;  Parliamentary  election 
at,  109-114;  party  feeling  at,  on 
Parliamentary  Reform,  115; 
visit  of  Prince  Regent  and 
Allied  Sovereigns  to,  27,  of 
Grand  Duchess  of  Oldenburg 
to,  27 

Oxford  Movement,  the,  283 


P^ESTUM,  255 

Pagan  and  Christian   sepulchres, 

259 

Pagett,  Mr.,  324 
Paignton,  4 


INDEX 


339 


Palgrave,  Mr.,  84,  118 

Pall  Mall  Gazette,  the,  309 

Pan-Anglican  Synod,  the,  287 

Paris,  a  visit  to,  45 

Parker,  the  Oxford  bookseller,  93 

Parliamentary  Reform,  1 1 5 

Pasta,  Madame,  at  Oxford,  109 

Peachey,  Elizabeth,  5 

Pearson,  Sir  Edwin,  138,  141, 
142  (note) 

Peel,  Sir  Robert,  108  ;  offers  Mil- 
man  preferment,  131,  135 ; 
resignation  of  his  seat  at  Ox- 
ford, 109;  defeat,  113,  114 

Pelage,  Colonel,  318 

Penn,  Granville,  270 

Perceval,  Mr.,  assassination  of,  24 

"Philip  II.,"  Prescott's,  187 

Phillimore,  John,  232 

Phillpotts,  Dr.,  112,  129 

Plantas,  the,  46,  48 

Platoff,  the  Hetman,  30 

Plumptre,  Mr.,  18,  19 

Popham,  Major,  10,  313 

Prescott,  Mr.  W.  H.,  159,  189; 
character  of,  194;  correspon- 
dence with  Milman,  174,  176, 
187-193;  death  of,  195,  199; 
his  works:  "Charles  V.,"  192; 
"  Conquest  of  Mexico,"  175 ; 
"Philip  II.,"  187 

Presidential  election,  the,  192 

Prideaux-Brune,  Charles,  4 

Prideaux,  Agnes,  4 

Prideaux  family,  the,  4 

Prideaux,  Joan,  4 

Prideaux,  Sir  John,  tomb  of,  4 

Prince  Regent,  lines  in  compli- 
ment to,  30 ;  visit  of,  to  Oxford, 
27 

Prize  poems,  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, 23 

Prudentius,  260 

Prussia,  King  of,  30 

Publishers  and  retail  booksellers, 
243 


Pusey,  Dr.,  247,  281,  283 
Pyrker,  Joh.  Ladislaw,  149 


QUAKERS,  the,  6 

Quarterly  Review,  its  criticism 
of  the  "  Conquest  of  Mexico," 
175,  of  Macaulay's  History,  161 ; 
editorship  of,  76,  77,  79 ;  Mil- 
man's  contributions  to,  64,  75, 
80,  82,  145, 192,  256;  Mrs.  Opie's 
anxiety  to  be  reviewed  in,  123- 
125 

Quarterly  Reviewers,  117 

Queen's  Lodge,  Ascot,  307 


"  Ramayana,"  the,  64 

Ranke,  Professor  Leopold  von, 
Mrs.  Austin's  translation  of  his 
"  History  of  the  Popes,"  205  ; 
his  style,  206 

Reading,  St.  Mary's  Vicarage  at, 
in  1817,  52,  54;  Radicalism  at,  69 
|  Recamier,  Madame,  184 

Reeve,  Henry,  178 

"  Register,"  the,  57  (note) 

Religion  and  science,  270  et  seq. 

Richardsons,  the,  181 

Richmond,  George,  R.A.,  290 

Rienzi)  Young  and  Miss  Phillips 
in,  in 

Rieti,  254 

Ristori,  Madame,  as  Bianca,  37 

Ritual  Commission,  the,  287 

Ritualism,  282 

Riviera  di  Ponente,  the,  262 

Robertson's  "Charles  V.,"  Pres- 
cott's edition  of,  191 

Rogers,  Mr.  Samuel,  128,  135, 
164  ;  a  breakfast  at,  127 

Rokeby,  Lord,  72 

"  Roma  Sotterranea  Cristiana, 
La,"  256 

Roman  antiquities,  177 

Rome,  66,  255,  256 


340 


INDEX 


Rossi,  the  Cavaliere  de,  256 

Ruskin,  Mr.,  257 

Russell,  Charles,  55 

Russell,  Lady  John,  184 

Russell,  Lord  John,  184;  nomi- 
nates Milman  Dean  of  St. 
Paul's,  167 ;  on  admission  to 
the  Cathedral,  232  ;  popularity 
of,  178 

Russia,  Emperor  of,  visit  of,  to 
Oxford,  30 


SADLER,  Michael  Thomas,  1 1 8 

St.  Bride's  Church,  302 

St.  David's,  Bishop  Thirlwall  of, 
151,  281 

St.  Hilaire,  M.,  185 

St.  Ildefonso,  316 

St.  Jean  de  Luz,  325 

St.  Luke's  Gospel,  the  preface 
to,  276 

St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  boun- 
daries of  the  parish,  137,  138 

St.  Mary-le-Bow  Church,  302 

St.  Paul's,  acoustic  qualities  of, 
235.  236;  beauty  of,  300; 
Deanery  of,  137  ;  decoration  of, 
241,  242 ;  evening  services  at, 
239 ;  fires  at,  296,  297  ;  "  Hand- 
book of,"  240  (note) ;  inhabi- 
tants of  the  Deanery,  171  ; 
regulations  and  abuses  in  the 
Cathedral,  232,  233 

St.  Peter's,  the  illumination  of,  66 

St.  Stephen's,  Walbrook,  302 

Salerno,  255 

"  Samor,"  37,  38,  42 ;  Coleridge's 
criticism  of,  38;  description  of 
the  firing  of  the  beacons  in, 
43,  44,  of  Westminster  Abbey 
in,  165  ;  Southey's  opinion  of, 
38 

Sancroft,  Dean,  172 

Sandleford  Lodge,  72,  117 

Santiago,  the  Marquis  of,  315 


Saturday  Review,  the,  294  (note) 

"  Savonarola,  Erasmus,  and  other 
Essays,"  83,  226  (note),  256 
(note) 

Scharf,  jun.,  George,  143 

Schlosser,  153 

Scotland,  a  tour  in,  181 

Scott,  Ensign,  10,  313 

Scott,  Rev.  William,  294  (note) 

Scott,  Sir  W.,  84 

Sebastian,  General,  318 

Seeker,  Dean,  172 

Segovia,  315 

Sewell,  Sir  John,  no,  154 

Shaftesbury,  Lord,  239 

Sharpe,  Mr.,  127 

Shelburne,  Lady,  180 

Shelley,  the  poet,  80 

Sheridan,  T.  B.,  21 

Sherlock,  W.,  Dean,  172 

Shoreham  Castle,  5 

Short,  Thomas  Vowler,  51  (note) 

Shrewsbury,  Lord,  154 

Sibthorp,  Mr.,  154 

Siddall,  Mr.,  127 

Siddons,  Mrs.,  34 

Sidmouth,  Lord,  no 

Sidney  College,  25  (note) 

Sienna,  262 

Smith,  Bobus,  128 

Smith,  Mrs.  Sydney,  169 

Smith,  Sydney,  152,  164,  285,  286 

Smith,  William,  of  Norwich,  46 

Soane,  Sir  J.,  136 

Somerville,  Miss,  34,  35 

Sorrento,  255 

Southey,  Robert,  20,  21,  25,  27, 
38,  76,  80,  83,  84,  117,  118,  119 

Stanhope,  Lord,  213,  290 

Stanley,  Bishop,  308 

Stanley,  Dean,  86,  96,  231,  232; 
correspondence  with  Lady 
Augusta,  96,  with  Milman,  93, 
246,  264,  278-283,  285  ;  friend- 
ship with  Milman,  262,  263 ;  his 
"  Historical  Memorials  of  West- 


INDEX 


341 


minster  Abbey,"  136;  judgment 
of  the  "  History  of  Christianity," 
144;  of  the  "History  of  Latin 
Christianity,"  224 ;  review  of 
Coleridge's  Memoir  of  Keble, 
215 

Stanley,  Lady  Maria,  130 

Stanley,  Miss  Louisa,  letter  from 
Milman  to,  23 1 

Stapleton,  6 

State  services,  288,  289;  discon- 
tinuance of,  290 

Stephens,  Miss,  at  Oxford,  109 

Stillingfleet,  Dean,  172 

Stowell,  Lord,  52,  53,  163 

Stratheden  House,  243 

Sumner,  Charles,  107 

Sumner,  J.  B.,  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  208 

Surrey  Theatre,  the,  33 

Sussex,  Duke  of,  127 

Sutherland,  Duke  and  Duchess 
of,  128 

Sydney  Papers,  the,  179 


TAIT,    Dr.,    Bishop    of    London, 

afterwards        Archbishop        of 

Canterbury,  239 
Talavera,  Diary  of  Captain  F.  M. 

Milman's     journey     from,     to 

Madrid,  313  et  seq. 
Talfourd,  Mr.  Justice,  55 
Talleyrandiana,  some,  129 
Talma,  46,  49 
Taylor,  Jeremy,  151 
Taylor,  Michael  Angelo,  70 
Tenby,  150 
Tennyson,  Lord,  on  prize  poems, 

23 

Thiebault,  General,  319 
Thierry,  Amedee,  159 
Thierry,  Augustin,  155,  157 
Thiers,  M.,  156 
Thistle  wood  gang,  the,  119 
Tholuck,  F.,  212 


Thynne,  Lord  John,  136,  137,  281 

Ticknor,  Mr.  George,  159,  197 ; 
correspondence  with  Milman, 
173.  J95,  !98;  his  "Life  of 
Prescott,"  1 60,  198 

Ticknors,  the,  190 

Tillotson,  Dean,  172,  296 

Tocqueville,  de,  death  of,  200 

Tolosa,  324 

Tower,  fire  at  the,  152 

Tower  Street,  6 

Trevelyan,  Lady,  201 

Trevelyan,  Sir  George,  201 

Turner,  General,  28 

Twisleton,  Mrs.,  189,  190 


VALLADOLID,  316,  317,  319;  cathe- 
dral, 321 
Valpy,  Dr.,  54 
Van  Mildert,  Dean,  172 
Victor,  Marshal,  320  (note) 
Vigny,  Alfred  de,  156,  158 
Villadrigo,  319,  320 
Villemarqu6,  Vicomte  de  la,  1 57 
Vittoria,  322 

Volknaer,  the  geographer,  49 
Volney,  Count,  49 


WALPOLE,  Mr.,  237 

"Warfare  of  Science  and 
Theology,"  the,  274 

Welch,  Captain,  314 

Wellesley,  Gerard,  113 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  his  ministry 
in  1829,  109;  funeral  at  St. 
Paul's,  179,  233-236;  the 
Wellington  monument,  305 

Westbury,  Lord  Chancellor,  250 

Westmacott,  Mr.,  290 

Westminster  Abbey,  136 

Westminster,  cholera  and  in- 
fluenza in,  140 

Westminster  Improvement  Com- 
missioners, 138,  139,  142 


342 


INDEX 


Westminster  School,  146,  epigrams 

at,  214 

Whately,  Archbishop,  108 
White,  Andrew  Dickson,  91,  274 
White,  Blanco,  106,  107 
White,  Dr.,  90 
White,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  186 
Wilberforce,   Bishop   Samuel,   63 

(note) 
Williams,   Professor   Monier,    63 

(note) 

Williams,  Sir  John  Hamlyn,  129 
Winchilsea,  Lord,  no 
Wiseman,  Cardinal,  178 
Wood,  Sir  William  Page,    after- 


wards Lord  Chancellor  Hather- 

ley,  1 68 

Worcester,  a  vacant  stall  at,  129 
Wordsworth,    William,    the    poet, 

a  meeting  with,  25 
Wren,  Sir  Christopher,  137,  235, 

298 ;     designs     for     the     new 

building  of  St.  Paul's,  300,  301  ; 

wishes  as  to  the  screen  at  St. 

Paul's,  241 
Wright,  J.,  213 


YARMOUTH,  Lord,  30 
York,  Archbishop  of,  112 


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